Echoing Flames: Forest of Secrets
by TheShadowedWarrior
Summary: As Fireheart struggles to balance Cinderpaw's training with his newfound fatherhood duties, secrets are revealed from within his own Clan–secrets strong enough to destroy even the most seemingly unbreakable of bonds.
1. Darkness

**Welcome to the third installment of my _Echoing Flames _AU! As always, I don't own Warriors (even though I should–kidding!).**

* * *

A spiky-furred gray and white tom padded through a damp, dark forest. He shook his head irritably as droplets of water splashed down onto his nose. Unlike the one he'd defended so fiercely while he was alive, there was no sunlight filtering down from the tops of the trees, no sound of birds calling or mice scurrying into their dens. Instead, there was nothing but darkness as far as the eye could see and a silence that was deafening in its own way.

Thistleclaw stopped at the edge of a large puddle and gazed down into it. In the swirling depths, he could just make out the shapes of Bluestar and her pathetic kit, Fireheart, as they conversed beneath the Highrock. As he watched, Bluestar meowed something before giving the ginger tom's ears a gentle lick. Even though he couldn't see her expression, Thistleclaw could easily imagine his enemy's eyes glowing with pride.

_That should be me, _the former ThunderClan warrior thought, feeling a wave of hatred and revulsion at the sight of his rival. _I should be standing at the head of ThunderClan as its leader with Tigerclaw and Whitestorm by my side. We would be the strongest Clan in the forest then. _

Thistleclaw let out a snarl, his claws sinking into the ground. He liked to imagine that they were digging into Bluestar's lifeless body. It was her fault that he had lost everything. He had lost his mate, his only son hardly ever spoke to him, he had failed to become Clan leader or even deputy, and it was all because of her. She had turned his family against him and hadn't even had the decency to give him the deputyship, choosing _Redtail _of all cats over him. Bluestar, a soft, weak, traitorous mother of three half-breed spawn had been given every blessing StarClan had to offer while he, a loyal, dedicated ThunderClan cat, had been relegated to nothing more than an average warrior. He _deserved _to be ThunderClan's leader, but Bluestar refused to see sense.

His only satisfaction came from the knowledge that he had been able to cause Bluestar a considerable amount of pain (well, more than _considerable_) when he stole her kit from her. However, the memory of seeing her choke up in rage and grief as she pronounced the words that sentenced him to death was tainted by the memory of her claws slashing across his throat, splattering the camp with blood. It didn't help matters that the first cat he'd seen upon his death was Snowfur. Her eyes, once warm and loving, had been cold and disdainful when she looked at him. For the first time ever, it had been easy to see that Bluestar and Snowfur were indeed sisters.

_"S-Snowfur," Thistleclaw stammered, staring at his former mate. He waited for the white molly to lean forward and nuzzle his flank as she'd done so many times while they were alive, but she remained perfectly still. "I missed you." _

_"Save it," Snowfur hissed, and Thistleclaw had to force himself not to flinch at the cold hatred in her eyes. "You aren't even supposed to be here right now. The only reason we didn't banish you to the Dark Forest right away was that I asked Thunderstar to let me speak to you." _

_Thistleclaw gaped at his former mate in disbelief. What was she saying? This wasn't the Snowfur who had fallen in love with and borne their son with him. Had those treacherous StarClan cats turned her against him? _

_"No, they didn't turn me against you," Snowfur meowed, and Thistleclaw guessed that she had known what he was thinking. "I finally saw you for what you really are. You're nothing but a cruel, vindictive bully who tries to hurt others in order to get what he wants." _

_"You don't have any idea what you're saying," Thistleclaw growled, beginning to grow angry. His voice rose as he continued, "Bluestar stole everything from me! I should have been chosen as deputy. I deserved it, but she stole my role!" _

_"Nobody ever stole anything from you! Sunstar chose her to be his successor," the white-furred queen meowed, her blue eyes blazing. "And don't give me that heap of fox dung about deserving to be deputy. I know what you've done, Thistleclaw. I saw what you and Tigerclaw did to that kittypet, and I know all about your little trips to the Dark Forest. And I know that you never cared about being deputy, at least not for the right reasons." _

_"What are you talking about?" Thistleclaw demanded, outraged. "I dedicated my life towards becoming Clan deputy so that I could lead ThunderClan to greatness!" _

_"Oh, please. Yes, I acknowledge that you dedicated yourself towards becoming Clan deputy, but it wasn't out of motivation to serve ThunderClan or make it great," Snowfur meowed coldly. "The only reason you wanted to become Clan deputy in the first place was that, even after all this time, you still haven't gotten over your petty need to feel as though you're superior to my sister." _

_Thistleclaw let out a hiss of frustration. This wasn't going at all the way he had planned, but he still held a small sliver of hope that Snowfur would come to see things from his perspective. He dug his claws into the ground as he spoke his next words. _

_"What about you and Whitestorm?" he demanded. "Bluestar killed you and turned _my _son against me! How can you defend her now?" _

_"Bluestar did not kill me! I died defending ThunderClan from invaders," Snowfur exclaimed. "She had nothing to do with the monster being there when it was. As for turning Whitestorm against you, I think you should look a little closer to home for that. You turned him against you all on your own, no thanks to the fact that you allowed Tigerclaw scar him for life during his _second training session as an apprentice_!" _

_She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a few heartbeats. Thistleclaw, unsure of what else to do in the face of her fury, simply stood there and waited for her to speak again. When she finally opened her eyes, she no longer looked angry, just sad. _

_"I thought you were better than this," she meowed softly. "I really did. When I was alive, you meant more to me than you will ever know. And I was so proud when I found out that I was expecting your kits. But now...now I see the truth. You never loved me, did you? I was always just another plaything for you to use against Bluestar." _

_"That's not true," Thistleclaw argued weakly, although he knew it was hopeless. "You've got it all wrong." _

_"Oh, do I?" Snowfur snapped, and the anger returned to her expression full force. "Then tell me, Thistleclaw, if I'm so wrong, why did you do everything in your power to drive Bluestar away from Whitestorm?" _

_Thistleclaw couldn't think of anything to say in response, so he simply shook his head. _

_"I knew you and Bluestar never cared for each other, but I'd hoped that you could at least have enough decency to let her see her kin," she spat. "Maybe if you had, you two could have raised Whitestorm together. But I was a fool to think that. The only thing that ever mattered to you was causing my sister as much pain as possible. Everything you ever did, it was always to hurt her. Well, congratulations, because you succeeded. Because of you, Bluestar has to spend every day fearing that she'll meet Mistyfoot and Stonefur in battle someday and Mosskit is here in StarClan instead of serving her Clan as a warrior as she should have been able to do. But you couldn't just let it go, could you? No, you also had to lure Firekit away from her. You really are pathetic–you used a defenseless kit in your revenge. She's going to be grieving for moons! So well done, Thistleclaw, you got your wish. You broke my sister's heart over a petty apprentice grudge. I just hope the Dark Forest is worth it." _

_With that, she turned around and stormed off, her fur bristling and her tail stiff and straight. Thistleclaw could only watch as his former mate disappeared from view, the first time he'd ever seen her turn her back on him. It took him a considerable amount of time to realize that the light had followed her as well. _

Thistleclaw snapped out of his thoughts, lashing his tail and letting out a hiss of frustration. He had been stuck in the Dark Forest ever since that day, unable to reach the grounds of StarClan despite moons of walking. No matter which direction he went, the darkness stretched on forever. If he hadn't seen StarClan's hunting grounds with his own eyes, he might not have believed it was real at this point.

It wasn't fair. He didn't deserve to be banished here, separated from his family. All he had ever done was try to give a traitor the comeuppance she deserved. He had never actually killed anyone or even done anything that was illegal, technically.

Perhaps they were jealous. Yes, Thistleclaw decided, that had to be the reason. They were jealous of his strength, of the superior training he had received in the Dark Forest. StarClan cats were weak, kittypet-loving fools who didn't know the true meaning of being a warrior the way his Dark Forest companions did. But they had to keep up the illusion of being all-powerful beings, so the most courageous warriors such as he were banished to this endless labyrinth of darkness.

But if Bluestar thought she was free of him, she would soon find out how wrong she was. Thistleclaw wouldn't rest until he had taken everything from her once and for all. She might have enjoyed a few moons of peace, but the power of a Dark Forest warrior was unmatched, and Thistleclaw wasn't one to let promises go unfulfilled.

_Tread carefully, Bluestar. You'll soon find out that water isn't the only thing that can drown you. _


	2. New Life

**Before I get too far into things, I want to clarify one thing. This book starts half a moon after the battle instead of a few days. I decided to skip over the Gathering because in this AU since Tigerclaw didn't murder Redtail and Ravenflight stayed in ThunderClan, there's no need for Fireheart to sneak around trying to investigate him.**

* * *

Fireheart gazed down proudly at the four kits squirming beside Sandstorm's belly. It had taken nearly two moons and almost an entire day of yowling and painful-sounding contractions, but the moment they'd been dreaming of ever since finding out that the ginger molly was expecting had finally arrived. Their children had been born earlier that morning, two sons and two daughters.

"Aren't they beautiful?" Sandstorm purred, licking each of her children's heads gently.

"They're perfect," Fireheart replied with utmost conviction. Of course, he was their father, so he was rather biased, but he couldn't imagine how anyone could look at these four kits, _his _kits, and not find them absolutely flawless.

"What should we name them?" Sandstorm asked, tearing her gaze away from their kits and looking up at him. "I was thinking maybe Squirrelkit for the little molly with the fluffy tail?"

Fireheart nodded. "And maybe the pale ginger tabby tom can be Redkit in honor of Redtail," he suggested.

Sandstorm purred, her eyes shining with gratitude. Fireheart licked his mate's ears before turning his attention to the third kit. This one was a pale gray tom with darker flecks, much like his grandmother, Brindleface.

"I think Spotkit would be a good name for this little one," Sandstorm suggested.

"Spottedkit?" Fireheart repeated in confusion, somehow not quite managing to catch what the pale ginger queen had said.

"No, not _Spotted_kit. _Spot_kit," Sandstorm clarified. "I know it's not the most creative name in the world, but it's the best I could think of. Anyway, at least it's better than Graykit."

"Can't argue with you there," Fireheart agreed.

Then he turned his attention to the last unnamed kit. Out of all his children, this was the one whose appearance confused him the most. This one, a molly, had blue-gray fur that almost glowed silver in the dawn light filtering in from outside the nursery. She could easily have been Bluestar's daughter; if Fireheart hadn't known any better, he would have thought that his leader had given birth to a litter of her own without anyone noticing.

_Maybe it's just a coincidence, _Fireheart decided.

"Fireheart?" Sandstorm meowed, and the flame-colored tom realized that he'd been silent for quite some time. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, er, sorry," he meowed sheepishly, and his mate laughed.

"Don't worry about it, but really, what should we name this last one?" the pale ginger molly asked.

Fireheart studied the kit for a few heartbeats. He supposed they could have named her after Bluestar, but considering the fact that she was still alive, it seemed rather unnecessary. But what did one name a blue-gray kitten? The only other cats with this particular pelt color that he knew of were Mistyfoot and Stonefur, and the Clan would riot if he named a ThunderClan kit after two RiverClan warriors.

_Rainkit, maybe? _Fireheart mused. He mulled over the name for a few moments, testing it out to see how it sounded. _Yes, that's it. That's what we'll call her. _

"Rainkit," he meowed at last. "Her name will be Rainkit."

"Perfect," Sandstorm purred. "Rainkit it is, then."

"Squirrelkit, Redkit, Spotkit, and Rainkit," Fireheart murmured, watching fondly as his and Sandstorm's newborn kits kneaded her belly. "Welcome to ThunderClan."

* * *

That evening, after a long day of congratulations from his friends, inquiries on how Sandstorm and the new kits were faring, and a few comments from Darkstripe and Longtail about how his kits had bad blood in them, Fireheart was finally able to curl up in his nest for a long night of sleep. The leaf-bare chill hadn't quite left the forest yet and he missed the feeling of having Sandstorm's fur pressed against his, but he took solace in the fact that she was warm and safe in the nursery. Besides, he still had his friends. They would do, he supposed.

Fireheart had never been the type to have particularly intricate or interesting dreams, or at least not that he could remember. If he ever happened to remember a dream when he woke up, it was usually something about hunting mice or other trivial matters.

So he was very surprised when, instead of a thick, lush green forest, he found himself in the middle of the ThunderClan camp.

Almost immediately, Fireheart could tell that he was dreaming. His first clue was that, although it was light enough to be about sunhigh, the camp was almost completely deserted. The second was that the two cats who were present–a queen and her kit, by the looks of things–didn't even seem to notice that he was there. As he watched, the kit scampered about joyfully while the queen looked on.

Fireheart was puzzled. This kit was obviously older than his and Sandstorm's litter if he or she was playing outside, but whoever it was also looked smaller than Ashkit and Fernkit. If he had to guess, he would have assumed that the unknown kit was about half a moon old, but there weren't any kits around that age in the nursery now.

_Am I having a vision? _he wondered, then immediately dismissed the thought. He was a warrior, not a medicine cat; he wasn't going to be receiving visions anytime soon. There had to be a logical explanation for what was happening.

_Maybe I'm just dreaming about kits because I just became a father, _Fireheart mused. It seemed like a fairly reasonable idea. _Yes, that's probably it. _

He was prepared to let the matter go until he realized that there were only two cats in the camp now. The kit had disappeared into thin air, leaving the queen searching about for her offspring frantically, shaking her head agitatedly and lashing her tail. Fireheart looked around for the kit as well, but there was no sign of him or her anywhere. It was as though he or she had never existed.

A wail of distress reverberated through the camp, sending a chill down Fireheart's spine. It sounded as though it had come from the queen, but at the same time, it also sounded as though it had come from all around him. What disturbed him even more, however, was the fact that it wasn't one voice that had wailed, but two.

_What in StarClan's name is going on? _

The wailing was nearly deafening now. Fireheart flattened his ears against his head, wishing more than anything that something would make it stop. If he had to listen to it any longer, he would either go deaf or mad, whichever came first.

_Wake up, for the love of all that's good! _

Then suddenly, he was back in the warriors' den. Fireheart stifled a gasp, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. He glanced around, taking in the sleeping forms of his denmates. No one appeared to have been disturbed by his nightmare. He let out a sigh of relief, sitting up in his nest and licking his front paw, drawing it over his face.

Glancing outside through the entrance, Fireheart could see that the camp was still dark. There would be a few more hours to go until dawn arrived. Bluestar, Whitestorm, and Tigerclaw wouldn't be pleased with him if he snuck out of the camp alone, but the screams of despair from his dream were still echoing in his mind and he knew that he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep again. Besides, if he managed to catch prey, they wouldn't have any real reason to fault him.

Silently, so as not to disturb any of the other warriors, Fireheart crept out of the den and headed for the camp entrance. He was about to enter the gorse tunnel when he heard Bluestar's voice from behind him.

"Where are you off to, Fireheart?"

Fireheart spun around at the sound of his Clan leader's voice. "B-Bluestar," he stammered. "I was just–er, that is to say, I was only going to...I couldn't sleep."

"Ah," Bluestar meowed, her expression clearing. "Say no more. A nightmare about kits, I expect?"

"Something like that," Fireheart replied, feeling relief wash over him. "How did you guess?"

"I've been around long enough to see several toms become fathers for the first time, and all of them went through the same thing," Bluestar meowed, her blue eyes gleaming with a mixture of sympathy and amusement. "Very interesting dreams they had as well. Smallear would never forgive me if he found out I told you this, but when Speckletail had Goldenflower and Lionheart, he woke the entire camp up because he was convinced that his kits were going to be blown away by the wind and demanded that we fortify the nursery immediately."

Fireheart pictured the grumpy elder rushing around the camp, screeching fearfully that his kits were about to be swept away like leaves. He wondered if it would be inappropriate to laugh at such a mental image.

"So you're saying it's normal to have dreams about losing kits?" he asked finally.

"Completely," Bluestar meowed gently, and he felt a little more reassured.

"I still don't think I'll be able to get back to sleep tonight," he admitted.

"Don't worry. Go for your walk," his former mentor meowed, licking the top of his head. "You can come back and sleep later if you feel like it. I'll tell Tigerclaw to let you off patrols until sunset."

"Thanks, Bluestar," Fireheart meowed quietly, and she licked his ears one more time.

He turned and padded through the gorse tunnel and out of the camp. The forest was still bathed in moonlight, and the only sound came from the leaves crackling beneath his paws. It was, all in all, a beautiful night out–or at least it would have been if his ears weren't still ringing from the wails in his dream.

* * *

**The kits are here! It took me forever to decide what their names were going to be, lol. I decided to give Fireheart and Sandstorm a kit that looks like Bluestar just to drive home the fact that Fireheart is an utterly clueless fool even further. Really, I mean, how stupid can you get? It's not as though there's an abundance of blue cats in ThunderClan. **

**I probably don't need to say this, but Fireheart's dream will have significance later. Some of you have probably already guessed how...**

**Anyway, thanks for reading! **

**-TheShadowedWarrior**


	3. Just An Ordinary Day

A few days later, Fireheart was finally able to put his dream out of his mind. He sat near the clump of nettles where the warriors had their meals, waiting patiently as Cinderpaw finished her lunch on the opposite side of the camp. From where he sat, Fireheart could see his apprentice talking animatedly with Brackenpaw and Brightpaw, and he guessed that it would be a while before she was able to finish eating her squirrel.

_Hopefully, she finishes soon,_ Fireheart thought, glancing up at the sky. Tigerclaw was due to return with a morning hunting patrol soon, and he had ordered Fireheart to take Cinderpaw out by sunhigh. It was nearly that time now, and Fireheart knew they needed to get moving. The last thing he needed was to give the deputy even more reason to bother him.

Finally, Cinderpaw rose from her place beside her siblings and meowed a quick goodbye to them before bounding over to Fireheart. "I'm ready to go!" she meowed cheerfully.

"You took your time today," Fireheart noted.

Cinderpaw looked sheepish. "Yeah, sorry about that," she apologized. "I was just telling Brackenpaw and Brightpaw all about this dream I had last night about catching a mouse that was as big as Tigerclaw."

"Well, I don't think there will be any mice that large anytime soon, but we can certainly practice more stalking techniques if you'd like," Fireheart meowed, trying to ignore the way his fur prickled at the mention of Tigerclaw's name.

"Techniques _again?_" Cinderpaw groaned, her ears drooping in disappointment. "Why? We've been doing it _forever! _I want to try _real _hunting now."

"Cinderpaw, don't complain. It's always good to review the basics," Fireheart scolded his apprentice. "Besides, your technique is good, but the speed still isn't quite there. I want you to get that back before you try hunting for real."

"But you said I was almost ready," the dark gray molly persisted.

"Almost ready doesn't mean you are," Fireheart replied in a tone that invited no argument. "When you _almost _catch a mouse, guess who gets to eat it? No one. Because _almost _doing something isn't enough. Now, hurry up and let's go. We're wasting time here."

Cinderpaw's tail drooped and she walked out of the camp with her head hanging low. Fireheart let out a sigh and padded after her. He knew that he had been harsh, but now wasn't the time to go easy on her. Being "close enough" could never be acceptable anymore. If Cinderpaw managed to become a warrior, she would be expected to serve her Clan just like any other warrior. There could be no accommodations.

_You didn't have to be rude, though, _a voice in his head scolded him. _You could have made your point without snapping at her. _

Fireheart sent a few choice words the voice's way as he watched Cinderpaw run through the hunter's crouch again. The dark gray molly's eyes were dull, and she barely turned to look at Fireheart whenever he offered her tips on how to improve her speed. He sighed exasperatedly; they were never going to get anywhere at this rate.

_Maybe you could try apologizing, _the voice suggested.

_Oh, fine, if it will make you happy, _Fireheart snapped silently.

"Listen," he meowed finally. "I'm sorry for snapping at you. But you must know, if you become a warrior, your Clanmates won't accommodate for your injury. They'll expect you to be able to serve and protect your Clan just like any other warrior would. And there are already cats who don't want you to succeed. I want you to become a warrior, more than anything, but if we're ever going to get there, I need nothing less than absolute perfection."

"It's okay, Fireheart," Cinderpaw meowed quietly. "I shouldn't have been complaining."

Fireheart felt his whiskers twitch in amusement. "No, but I don't blame you. I was the same way as an apprentice," he replied, and Cinderpaw purred. "Tell you what," he continued. "Let's practice a few more times, and then if there's still time, I'll take you out for a short hunting mission. The Clan needs more fresh-kill at any rate."

Cinderpaw's eyes lit up in excitement. "Really? You mean it?" she asked eagerly. Fireheart nodded, and she meowed happily, "Good enough for me!"

They practiced Cinderpaw's hunting techniques three more times that afternoon. Although her speed wasn't quite at the level Fireheart wanted it to be, it was close and he expected that it wouldn't be long before she had mastered it completely. It was all the better as well; things were still tense between the Clans after the battle and ThunderClan needed as many warriors as possible.

"Well done," Fireheart meowed as Cinderpaw straightened up again. "We'll need to keep practicing another day, but it's starting to get dark out. Let's head back to camp, and if you happen to see any prey along the way, I'll let you try to catch it."

"Alright," Cinderpaw replied cheerfully.

As they were nearing the gorse tunnel, Fireheart spotted a rabbit burrowing through some dead leaves out of the corner of his eye. Silently, he signaled with his tail towards Cinderpaw, who glanced in the direction he was pointing. Her eyes lit up excitedly when she saw the rabbit.

"Go on," Fireheart whispered encouragingly.

Cinderpaw crouched down low, balancing her weight evenly as she crept towards the rabbit. Her pacing was still on the slow side, but her movements were utterly silent. Perhaps due to the lack of speed, the rabbit was able to sense her at the last possible second, but it was already too late by then and she pounced, killing it in one swift bite.

"Well done!" Fireheart praised his apprentice. Cinderpaw sat up with the rabbit still clutched in her jaws.

"I was too slow, wasn't I?" she admitted. "I almost didn't get it."

"It was still slow," Fireheart meowed. "But you _caught _it, and that's what matters in the end. And we'll work on your speed another day. For now, let's get back home so we can add your rabbit to the fresh-kill pile."

Cinderpaw nodded and the two cats continued the rest of the way to the ThunderClan camp. As they padded through the gorse tunnel, an idea flashed into Fireheart's mind.

"Cinderpaw, why don't you take the rabbit to Sandstorm?" he suggested. "I'm sure she'd appreciate it. And you can meet our kits too while you're there."

"Sure," Cinderpaw agreed, looking delighted at the idea. "I'll go take it to her now. Bye, Fireheart!"

Fireheart watched as the young molly bounded off in the direction of the nursery, the rabbit swinging about in her jaws. Once she had disappeared into the nursery, he turned and went to join Dustpelt and Ravenflight, who were sharing a meal near the warriors' den. He sat down beside his friends, who waved their tails in greeting when they saw him.

"How was today's training?" Dustpelt asked.

"Good," Fireheart replied. Unable to keep a note of pride out of his voice, he added, "Cinderpaw managed to catch a rabbit today."

"That's great, Fireheart," Ravenflight meowed sincerely.

"Yeah. We still need to work on her pace, but the technical stuff is there," he answered. "So, did anything interesting happen while we were gone?"

"Tigerclaw had to chase some rogues out of our territory," Dustpelt answered casually, taking a bite out of his squirrel.

"Oh, really?" Fireheart meowed curiously.

"Yeah, apparently by the Twolegplace," Ravenflight spoke up.

"You don't think they might be Brokentail's old followers again?" Fireheart asked, remembering the vicious ex-ShadowClan warriors who had attacked their camp not even a few moons ago. They had driven them out, but no one had any idea where they had gone.

However, both of his companions shook their heads. "I doubt it," Dustpelt replied. "Tigerclaw didn't exactly look as though he'd been in a fight, and if it _had _been the ShadowClan warriors, they definitely would have put up a fight. It was probably just a few Twolegplace rogues who decided to take a trip into the forest and happened to run into the wrong cat."

Fireheart nodded, seeing the logic in his Clanmate's words. It was true; a ShadowClan warrior would never allow themselves to be chased away without a fight, especially not one that had their pride wounded. On the other hand, that raised the question as to why Tigerclaw would resort to chasing instead of full-on attacking the rogues. He had always been an aggressive warrior for as long as Fireheart had known him, and chasing seemed rather passive for him.

_Perhaps the rogues ran before he got a chance to,_ he reasoned. _Oh well. No sense worrying about it now. _

"Looks like Swiftpaw's eating alone again," Ravenflight remarked.

Glancing away towards the mossy stump where the apprentices had their meals, Fireheart saw that he was right. The black and white tom was seated away from his denmates, who all had their backs to him. He frowned, wondering if they had quarreled recently.

"Does that happen often?" Fireheart asked.

"You didn't notice? It's been happening for a while now," Ravenflight meowed. "Honestly, I think Longtail is a bad influence on Swiftpaw. I've talked to him a few times–Swiftpaw, that is–and he doesn't seem to have any concept of respect. I also overheard him making remarks about kittypets and how they don't deserve to be warriors, and I'm almost certain he didn't learn them from Goldenflower."

"Figures," Fireheart sighed, rolling his eyes. Trust Longtail to try to turn his apprentice against him. "You know, you almost have to feel bad for Swiftpaw. Imagine having _Longtail _as a mentor."

"Yeah," Dustpelt agreed with a snicker. "You know he tried to run away during the battle against ShadowClan and RiverClan, but Tigerclaw told him not to be a coward and made him stay?"

Fireheart snorted. "I didn't see that, but I can believe it happened," he meowed. "Honestly, Tigerclaw should have just let him go. It's not as if Longtail contributes anything during battles. I'm surprised he managed to become a warrior at all the way he fights."

The three friends enjoyed a few more moments of making fun of Longtail before deciding to turn in for the day. Pushing his way into the warriors' den, Fireheart curled up in his nest and was asleep within heartbeats. It had been a long day, and he was more than ready to get some well-deserved rest. Fortunately, his sleep was peaceful tonight and no dreams disturbed it.


	4. Mysteries

Two days later, Fireheart had the dream about the strange queen and her kit again.

This time, however, instead of being in the middle of the camp, he was following them through the forest. At one point, the kit tried to jump over a bush, but failed to gain enough height and got stuck inside the bush instead. Fireheart barely suppressed a purr of amusement at the sight of the tiny limbs flailing about helplessly. It reminded him of himself as a kit in a way, although of course, there were no bushes for him to get tangled up in back in Twolegplace.

But just like the last time he'd had the dream, the kit disappeared mysteriously, leaving his mother to cry out for him. Unsure what else to do, Fireheart raced over to the queen to try to comfort her.

"Don't worry, we'll find your kit," he meowed over her wails. "I'll start looking for him for you."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the queen turned to face him. Fireheart choked back a gasp of horror at the sight of her face. The sound of her wails was still echoing through the trees, but her face was twisted into an expression of unadulterated hatred.

_"You!" _the queen snarled. _"You killed him! You murdered my kit!" _

"N-no, I didn't!" Fireheart protested, stepping back out of fear. "I didn't do anything to him, I swear! I would never hurt a kit!"

However, the queen would not be assuaged. Before Fireheart had time to react, she leaped at him, her claws outstretched and her eyes dark with bloodlust. He closed his eyes, waiting for the searing pain that was sure to come...

With a start, Fireheart jolted awake in the warriors' den. He looked around wildly for any sign of the queen from his dream, but neither she nor her kit was anywhere to be seen. Letting out a sigh, he took several deep breaths before curling up in his nest, his heart still racing frantically.

What was going on here? It couldn't be a coincidence that he had almost the exact same dream in a matter of days. On the other hand, he hadn't recognized the queen and her kit wasn't anywhere close in age to any of the kits in the nursery. Besides, Bluestar _had _said that it was common for new fathers to have nightmares about losing kits. Maybe he still hadn't gotten over his anxiety yet.

_But two dreams in only a few days? _

Fireheart shook his head. Even if these types of dreams were common for someone in his position, having the same dream twice within days of each other seemed excessive. Perhaps he was having visions of the future after all, as unlikely as that would be.

But if he were having visions, that raised another question. Whose litter was he seeing? It couldn't have been one Brindleface's kits, for they were much older than the kit in his dream. It could have been one of his and Sandstorm's kits, but they had four, not one. Where were the rest of them? If it was a vision of one of his children's futures, was StarClan telling him that they were going to lose all of their kits, and that was why only one had appeared in the dream?

Maybe he wasn't seeing any of the current litters at all. Fireheart thought of all the queens who were currently expecting. Goldenflower's soon-to-be litter would be arriving sometime in newleaf. Was it possible that he was seeing her unborn children's future?

_Surely though, if StarClan were going to send a warning like that, they would send it to either Goldenflower or Yellowfang? _a voice in his head reasoned.

Fireheart let out a sigh of frustration. The voice had brought up a good point, but now he was left with even fewer answers than before. If they were trying to warn him, they certainly weren't doing a particularly commendable job of it. How was he supposed to take action if he didn't even know who to warn about his dream?

The sun was beginning to filter in through the entrance to the warriors' den. Thanking StarClan for the temporary distraction, Fireheart rose to his paws and padded out of his nest. There would be plenty of time to worry about his dream later–and he had a feeling that he would be doing quite a lot–but for now, the fresh-kill pile needed to be stocked and there were borders to patrol. His strange dreams would just have to wait until later.

* * *

By the time Fireheart returned to the camp again, it was nearly sunhigh. He had managed to catch a fair amount of prey, and even Tigerclaw couldn't find something to complain about. When he had deposited his last load, the deputy had simply growled at Fireheart that he could take the day off until it was time for the sunset patrol since Runningwind and Mousefur had taken out the apprentices.

For once, Fireheart wasn't about to complain. At least this way, he would have more time to spend with Sandstorm. Picking up a large thrush, he carried it to the nursery and pushed his way inside.

"Is that for me?" Sandstorm asked, her green eyes lighting up at the sight of the thrush. Fireheart nodded and dropped it in front of her. "Thank StarClan. These four eat like badgers. It's getting difficult to keep up with them."

"Do you want me to ask Yellowfang for some borage?" Fireheart offered.

However, Sandstorm shook her head. "She brought some to all of us yesterday," the pale ginger molly answered. "Nursing four kits at once is just a bit more tiring than I realized."

"Large litters tend to take a lot of a queen's energy," Speckletail meowed from her nest. "And it only gets harder to manage as she gets older. I remember Robinwing's last litter...well, she lost all but two, but she had four kits at one point and she wasn't a young queen anymore. I think we were all surprised by how large her litter was."

"Why?" Fireheart asked curiously. By the look on Sandstorm's face, she didn't know either.

"Queens tend to produce smaller litters as they get older," Goldenflower explained. "No one knows for sure why, but the theory is that their bodies can't handle carrying too many kits at once, so StarClan lessens their burdens by making the litters smaller. I remember both of Bluestar's litters..."

"Bluestar had kits?" Fireheart asked in surprise.

Goldenflower nodded. "Oh, yes. She had two litters with her mate, Thrushpelt. He died sometime before you joined the Clan, Fireheart, but you would have liked him. He was a good cat for her. But as I was saying, she had three kits in her first litter, but only one in her last."

"The youngest one would have been right around your age, now that I think about it," Speckletail added, frowning slightly at Fireheart. "And what's strange is that–"

She broke off and shook her head. "Never mind," she amended hastily. "It's not important."

Fireheart was tempted to press her, but he could sense that the queen wasn't interested in continuing the conversation anymore. Giving Sandstorm's ear a quick lick, he turned and padded out of the nursery, his head spinning.

Bluestar had kits–or at least she did once. He wondered why she hadn't ever mentioned them before. Then again, he reasoned, it was a rather personal subject. Perhaps she just didn't feel comfortable talking about them.

Still, Fireheart couldn't help wondering what was so strange about Bluestar's youngest kit according to Speckletail, for there were many things about the ThunderClan leader's offspring that would be considered strange. For example, it would be strange if Bluestar had given her son or daughter a kittypet name. It would be strange if she had picked up a tiny dog and decided that she would raise it. Second of all, what could possibly be so strange that Speckletail didn't feel comfortable telling him about it?

_I wonder who her kits are, _Fireheart mused to himself. The entire Clan seemed to like and respect Bluestar, but no one was especially close to her, with the exception of him and Whitestorm. But he had been born a kittypet, and he had heard a few elders saying once that Whitestorm was her nephew, not her son.

Fireheart shook his head and padded almost absentmindedly to the warriors' den. He knew that kits were a blessing and he would never trade his own children for all the fresh-kill in the forest, but he wished that, for once, he could avoid getting involved in any trouble surrounding them–especially if there was a prophecy from StarClan involved.


	5. Guarding Secrets

Whitestorm sat in the middle of the camp, his fur pressed against Willowpelt's flank as they shared tongues. The silver-gray queen purred as his tongue rasped over her cheek, her blue eyes glowing with affection. This was Whitestorm's favorite time of day. For a few hours, he could forget about his responsibilities as a senior warrior and just enjoy the company of his mate.

"How was your day today, Whitestorm?" Willowpelt asked.

"Tiring," the great white warrior answered honestly. "But it's all part of being a warrior. The Clan needs all of us to be at our absolute best until newleaf arrives. Although, I will say I'm looking forward to the thaw coming."

"Anytime now, I would think," Willowpelt meowed. "It's been getting warmer over the last quarter moon."

Whitestorm nodded, then paused as he spotted Fireheart walking towards them. The young tom had a distracted, almost glazed look in his eyes that worried him. Fireheart paused in front of them, scuffling his paws nervously, and Whitestorm waited for him to speak.

"Er, hello Whitestorm, Willowpelt," Fireheart meowed quietly.

"Hello, Fireheart," Willowpelt meowed gently, a concerned look flashing in her eyes. "Are you feeling alright? You don't look so well."

Fireheart just flicked his tail. "I suppose I've been better," he replied. "I was going to ask Whitestorm something, but if you two are busy, I won't bother you."

"No, not at all. Come sit," Whitestorm meowed, gesturing with his tail for the younger warrior to sit down beside him.

Fireheart flashed him a grateful glance and sat down next to the white warrior. Whitestorm curled his tail over his paws as he waited for Fireheart to say whatever it was he needed to say. The ginger tom hesitated for a few heartbeats before breaking into speech.

"I was just wondering...well, have you ever heard of toms having nightmares about kits when they become fathers?" he asked. Almost instantly, he looked embarrassed by his own question.

"Er, yes. Yes, I have," Whitestorm answered, blinking in surprise. Was this really what Fireheart wanted to talk about? A few nightmares?

"Okay. And, well...whenever those nightmares happened, did the number of kits in the dream ever vary from the actual number of kits in the litter?" Fireheart pressed.

The question was so oddly specific that Whitestorm was momentarily caught off guard. Almost immediately, however, he regained his senses and began to ponder the flame-colored warrior's question. He could remember a few toms having the same type of nightmare Fireheart was describing, but he couldn't recall if the number of kits had ever been mentioned.

"I don't know for sure," he admitted finally. "Sorry, Fireheart."

"Oh–don't worry about it," Fireheart meowed, glancing down at the ground. "Thanks for your help anyway. I'll just leave you two alone now."

He got to his feet and started to walk away. As he was about to pass out of earshot, Willowpelt called out to him, "Maybe you could talk to Yellowfang about it? If you're having trouble understanding dreams, she's the best cat to ask questions to."

Fireheart paused for a moment, then nodded. "I'll do that," he agreed. "Thanks, Willowpelt, Whitestorm."

Willowpelt let out a sigh. "Poor dear," she murmured. "I hope someone can help him resolve whatever's going on soon."

As he took in the sorrow and sympathy on his mate's face, Whitestorm wondered, not for the first time, if she had figured out the truth about Fireheart's parentage. As far as he knew, only he, Bluestar, and Spottedleaf knew that Fireheart was Bluestar's son (although Spottedleaf was dead, so it was debatable as to whether she should be counted). In a way, he was surprised; Bluestar was so affectionate with Fireheart that it was a wonder the entire Clan hadn't figured it out by now. As a matter of fact, it seemed incredible that _he _hadn't figured out the truth himself.

Then again, Whitestorm reasoned, the entire Clan was convinced that Thistleclaw had killed Fireheart and Fireheart believed that he had been born a kittypet. There was no real reason for any of them to believe that Bluestar was anything more than an extremely overprotective mentor to him. If Whitestorm hadn't known any better, he doubted whether he would have been any the wiser himself.

There were times when he was tempted to tell Fireheart the truth. He wanted to tell him that his fiery temperament was nearly a carbon copy of Bluestar as a young warrior. He wanted to regale him with the tale of how he had made the other queens laugh when he jumped onto the Highrock and then, terrified by the unexpected height, refused to come down until Bluestar climbed up and rescued him. He wanted to tell him how happy Bluestar had been when she found out that she was expecting kits again, and how she refused to let him out of her sight after he was born. But he couldn't do that, and not only out of respect for the cat who had raised him after Snowfur's death. There was no telling how Fireheart would react to learning that everything he'd believed about himself was a lie. At the moment, he might not know the truth, but he had a good relationship with Bluestar. But if he took the truth the wrong way, it could easily tear them apart forever. And although it was difficult for Bluestar to live in a world where her son didn't remember her, Whitestorm knew that it would be impossible for her to live in a world where her son hated her.

Whitestorm rose to his paws, giving Willowpelt's ear a quick lick before padding out of the camp. After his brief discussion with Fireheart, he needed something to clear his mind, and a hunt looked like the best way to do so. As he padded through the gorse tunnel, he stepped aside to let Runningwind and Brackenpaw past, dipping his head to the other warrior.

"Whitestorm," Runningwind meowed respectfully. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Just out for a hunt," Whitestorm answered. "Tell Tigerclaw I'll be back by sunset, will you, in case he wonders where I've gone?"

"Sure," Runningwind agreed.

Whitestorm nodded gratefully and turned to continue towards the forest. Willowpelt was right; the thaw was most definitely on its way soon. There was a feeling of warmth in the air that hadn't been present for many moons. Soon, the warm weather would return and the forest would once again be filled with prey. Feeling his spirits lift at the thought, Whitestorm quicked his pace as he padded deeper into the woods.

A slight rustling sound from a nearby bush caught his attention. Turning his gaze, Whitestorm saw the tail of a squirrel poking out from behind a small bush. Dropping into the hunter's crouch, he moved forward silently until he was right behind his prey. Before the squirrel had time to realize that something was amiss, he pounced, killing it with a sharp, clean bite to the neck.

Remembering to thank StarClan, Whitestorm buried his catch under some dirt and continued on his way. Soon, he had managed to catch another squirrel, as well as a mouse and a vole.

_That should be enough, _he noted, pleased with the turnout. His spirits were lifted further when he took in the size of the prey he had managed to catch. They were noticeably plumper, a sure sign that newleaf was on its way soon and the Clan wouldn't need to overstock its fresh-kill pile to keep the queens and elders from going hungry.

When he returned to the camp, Whitestorm spotted Fireheart sitting a few tail-lengths away from the warriors' den, talking animatedly with Dustpelt and Ravenflight. He was relieved to see that the flame-pelted warrior seemed to have gotten over his worries about his dreams. It looked as though talking to Yellowfang had done the trick after all. Out of curiosity, he moved a little closer to the three warriors, wondering what they were discussing.

"So, did either of you ever dream about becoming Clan leader?" Whitestorm heard Fireheart ask.

"Not really," Ravenflight answered.

"Me neither," Dustpelt agreed. "Don't get me wrong, I played games with the other kits where we pretended to be Clan leader. But that's something that all kits do. I don't think I ever seriously considered becoming a leader for real."

"What about you, Fireheart?" Ravenflight inquired.

Even from his vantage point, Whitestorm could see Fireheart roll his eyes. "Yeah, right," the ginger tom scoffed. "Me, a Clan leader? The entire forest would turn upside down before _that _ever became a possibility. Besides, I'm happier as a regular warrior. Not to mention with helping Sandstorm, training Cinderpaw, and my regular duties, I've got too much to worry about without having to deal with leadership issues as well."

"I suppose that's true," Ravenflight agreed, licking his paw and drawing it over his face. "Speaking of Sandstorm, how are your kits doing?"

"They're great," Fireheart purred. "Growing bigger and stronger every day."

Almost absentmindedly, he added, "I still can't get over how much Rainkit looks like Bluestar. Awfully strange coincidence, don't you think?"

Hearing this, it was all Whitestorm could do to prevent himself from yowling, _"It's not a coincidence! She looks like Bluestar because you two are mother and son!" _He shook his head, looking to the sky and praying to StarClan for strength. Fireheart was a wonderful young tom, a good mate and a brilliant asset to the Clan, but he was so ridiculously dense it was almost painful.

Shaking his head, Whitestorm turned and padded into the warriors' den. He wanted nothing more than for Fireheart to stop being so thick-skulled, but short of whacking him over the head with a stiff rabbit, he wasn't entirely sure how to solve this particular issue.

* * *

**Fireheart's stupidity is starting to annoy Whitestorm, lol. I decided to write this chapter from his POV since it's been a while since Whitestorm had a chapter written from his perspective. **

**Just to clear a few things up, in this storyline, Whitestorm and Brindleface were never mates. IMO, Whitestorm never seemed like the type of cat to move from one mate to another just like that. I also don't remember ever receiving solid proof that Whitestorm and Brindleface were ever mates, and the fact that the two of them were raised together as foster siblings after Snowfur died makes this pairing a bit uncomfortable. **

**So yeah, Willowpelt is Whitestorm's only mate. **

**Thanks for reading! **

**-TheShadowedWarrior**


	6. Memories

Bluestar swallowed the last mouthful of her vole, scraping a bit of dust over the bones. Once she had buried the remains of her meal, she looked up across the clearing over to where Fireheart had just disappeared into the nursery with a squirrel for Sandstorm. She purred, pleased by how dedicated her kit was to his mate. He was very much like his father in that regard; Thrushpelt had gone to great lengths to make sure she was comfortable while she was nursing both her litters, even though one of them hadn't been his. Fireheart certainly had his reckless moments and there were many times when Bluestar was tempted to ground him in camp out of fear for his safety, but she couldn't deny that he had inherited all of Thrushpelt's best qualities.

Although several seasons had passed, Bluestar could still remember Fireheart, then a tiny kit, attempting to drag a rabbit at least three times his size to Willowpelt and Robinwing. He hadn't even reached his first moon yet, but the concept of making sure the queens and elders were well-fed had already been ingrained into his mind. Willowpelt and Robinwing had been delighted by the rabbit, even if it was a little dusty by the time it reached them.

"Thank you, dear," Robinwing had purred, licking Fireheart's–then Firekit–head gently.

"Sorry it's all dusty now," Firekit had meowed sheepishly.

"Oh, don't worry. We've all had to eat worse than this," Willowpelt had replied kindly.

Bluestar let out a quiet purr at the memory, then turned to watch Fireheart as he conversed with Ravenflight and Dustpelt. Her eyes softened as she took in the happiness in his eyes as he laughed at something Ravenflight had said. He was fully grown now and he took his duties extremely seriously, but whenever he was around his friends, she could still see the sweet, innocent kit who used to annoy the warriors to no end by destroying the nests in their den.

The familiar pang of loneliness hit her and she wondered, for what felt like the millionth time, how long it would be until an opportunity to tell Fireheart who she was presented itself. She had planned on telling him nearly a moon ago but had been forced to put it off again due to the battle against ShadowClan and RiverClan. Unfortunately, ever since then, Fireheart had been busier than ever with taking care of Sandstorm as well as performing his regular duties as a mentor and a warrior. There was simply no time to tell him, not considering everything that needed to be said.

Still, Bluestar couldn't help feeling as though she was running out of time. Rainkit, Fireheart and Sandstorm's youngest daughter, looked exactly like her, and Bluestar knew that it would only be a matter of time until some cat connected the dots. Somehow, she had a feeling a few of the queens already knew or at least suspected that something was off. No one had said anything yet, but Bluestar had seen the knowing look in Speckletail's eyes when she visited the nursery just a few days ago.

Lost in thought, Bluestar almost didn't notice as Yellowfang walked up to her until the old medicine cat sat down next to her, curling her tail around her paws.

"Watching him again?" she rasped an edge of humor to her voice.

"Is it _that _obvious?" Bluestar asked with a sigh.

"To everyone who actually bothers to look, so you're probably safe," Yellowfang answered. "You're just lucky Fireheart's distracted at the moment. I'm sure he'd be interested as to why you're staring at him from across the camp."

Bluestar sighed again. "I know, I know I shouldn't be staring. It's just..."

"Do you miss him?" Yellowfang asked gently.

The question caught the ThunderClan leader by surprise. She stiffened for a moment, not entirely sure how to respond. Silence hung in the air for several heartbeats as she tried to regain her train of thought.

Finally, she asked, "How long have you known?"

"I've suspected for a while, but I've only known for sure for a few days," the former ShadowClan cat admitted. "I did notice that you protected him more than most mentors do for their apprentices, but I thought that was just your nature. I hadn't seen you mentor an apprentice before, after all."

"You were alive when I mentored Frostfur and Runningwind," Bluestar pointed out in confusion.

"True," Yellowfang acknowledged. "But I was watching you from the point of an enemy warrior during those times. Seeing you mentor Fireheart was the first time I'd seen you train an apprentice firsthand. Now, as I was saying, seeing how protective you were of him was part of what tipped me off–although Rainkit was the final proof. There aren't exactly a myriad of blue-furred cats in the world as far as anyone knows."

That was true, Bluestar reflected. Aside from herself, the only cats she knew with her pelt color were Mistyfoot, Stonefur, and Stormtail, and one of those three was dead while the other two were RiverClan warriors. Unless Sandstorm had somehow given birth to Stonefur's kits instead of Fireheart's and she hadn't noticed, there was almost no way Rainkit _couldn't _be related to her.

"Do you think the rest of the Clan has figured it out too?" she asked Yellowfang.

The old medicine cat looked thoughtful. "I can't say for sure," she admitted finally. "I think most of them just assume it's a strange coincidence–after all, they're all convinced that Fireheart was born in Twolegplace. But knowing how close you are to Fireheart as well as the fact that he sired a kit who looks exactly like you, I have a feeling that someone will connect the dots soon."

"I know," Bluestar meowed, letting her gaze drift over to her son once more. "And that's what worries me. I don't want some cat finding out and letting it slip in front of him before I have the chance to tell him. You and Whitestorm are the only ones who know, and I trust that you know not to tell him for me. But the rest of the Clan...I just don't know."

"Are you sure you'd be doing him a favor by telling him?" Yellowfang asked. "Or that you'd be doing either of yourselves a favor, for that matter?"

For a few moments, Bluestar was silent, stunned by the medicine cat's question. Yellowfang had presented her with a perspective she hadn't even bothered to consider yet. She had been so concerned with finding the perfect time to tell Fireheart that she was his mother, but now she wondered if she was being selfish.

Even if Fireheart didn't know the truth, they still had a good relationship. They had grown close as mentor and apprentice, and they were still close now. She had lost him for several moons, true, but in a way, she had still gotten exactly what she wanted. She had gotten to see one of her children grow into a fine warrior that her Clan could be proud of.

But even as she pondered the question, Bluestar knew that she couldn't bear the thought of Fireheart never finding out the truth. Not just because she was selfish enough to keep her youngest kit close to her. There was no substitute for the bond between a mother and her children. It didn't matter how close she and Fireheart were. Until he knew the truth, there was no way for them to have the relationship she yearned for.

"I don't know," Bluestar meowed finally. "But I have to tell him, and I hope he'll understand. He'll always be my kit and nothing will ever change that, but I want him to know me as his mother as well as his mentor and leader."

"I thought you'd say that," Yellowfang murmured. "But you can't keep putting it off forever, Bluestar. Sooner or later, he's going to have to find out. And unless you get moving, chances are, it won't be from you."

"_I know_," Bluestar meowed, almost defensively. "It's just...I just haven't found the right time."

"But when _will _it be the right time?" the old gray molly asked. "Face it, Bluestar, you've been putting it off for moons. You can't seriously tell me that there's _never _been an opportunity, not when I can see him lounging around in the camp right now. What's stopping you from just walking over there right now and asking him to talk to you in private?"

Bluestar didn't know what to say to that. Once again, Yellowfang had brought up a valid question. Unfortunately, it was one that she didn't know the answer to herself. What _was _stopping her from simply asking Fireheart to have a private conversation with her? It wasn't as if she hadn't thought to do so. She was his leader; it wasn't as though he could outright refuse. Besides, that would be the easiest way to get everything out in the open. Yet every time the idea crossed her mind, it was as though a weight had settled down on her tongue, preventing her from speaking the words that needed to be said.

Of course, she thought bitterly, they wouldn't be in this position if not for Thistleclaw. She dug her claws into the ground, imagining them sinking into her former enemy's fur as hatred boiled up inside of her.

Regardless of her feelings towards Thistleclaw, there was no denying that he had been a powerful warrior. If things had been different, if he had just let go of his resentment and jealousy, she could have put their rivalry aside and worked together with him to lead ThunderClan. She wouldn't have been happy about it, but she could have done it.

But no, apparently such a thing was utterly inconceivable. Instead, Thistleclaw had turned his attention to her son, a defenseless kit at the time. He had stolen him right from under his nose, shattering her to the point where she couldn't bring herself to perform her leader duties for moons, and all because he still hadn't gotten over the fact that he hadn't become Clan leader. Now thanks to him, Fireheart had no idea what she was to him and she couldn't seem to find a way to tell him.

Even worse, she was on her last life. Anything could happen–an accident on a hunting patrol, a run-in with a few enemy warriors–and she would lose her chance for good. Well, she would lose it until Fireheart joined her in StarClan, but who knew how long that would take?

Without warning, Bluestar felt her eyes beginning to mist over. Muttering a hasty farewell to Yellowfang, she got to her paws and disappeared into her den. She curled up in her nest, keeping her back to the entrance in the hopes that anyone who came by would think she was asleep.

Bluestar spent the rest of the day in her den, accompanied only by memories of a tiny, flame-pelted kit snuggling underneath her fur as they settled down for an afternoon nap.

* * *

**Poor Bluestar. She really needs to get moving, huh? The others are going to figure things out sooner or later...**

**And knowing Fireheart, it will be before he does. One thing about Fireheart, he's usually pretty good at discovering secrets as long as they aren't related to himself. **

**Now, to respond to a few reviews. **

**Shadowwolf1997: I should have clarified, in this storyline, Willowpelt was Whitestorm's only mate, but Whitestorm was not Willowpelt's only mate. Personally, I like to imagine that her first two litters were the product of a relationship with a rogue, seeing as Tawnyspots was dead moons before Darkstripe was born (long enough that he couldn't have sired him) and I refuse to accept that Patchpelt is Graystripe's father. **

**WolflexZ: Ahahaha I just love causing pain, don't I? **

**The MoonClanner: As Moonkitti said in one of her videos, "Those kits look just like...OAKHEART!" **

**Thanks for reading as always! **

**-TheShadowedWarrior**


	7. Floodwaters

"Longtail, take a patrol along the RiverClan border. It's been a few days since anyone went that way. Take Swiftpaw and Fireheart with you."

Fireheart suppressed a groan as he heard Tigerclaw's order. It had been a long morning of training with Cinderpaw, and he had just settled down for a meal with Ravenflight. Unfortunately, it seemed as though Tigerclaw was determined that he shouldn't be allowed a moment of rest.

_And what a surprise that I get stuck with Longtail and his brat of an apprentice, _Fireheart thought bitterly.

Letting out a sigh, the flame-colored warrior rose to his paws and stalked over to meet Longtail and Swiftpaw by the gorse tunnel. Without sparing either of them so much as a glance, Fireheart followed Longtail wordlessly out of the camp. Swiftpaw stayed by his mentor, holding his head high with an attempt at the dignified expression of a senior warrior, and Fireheart couldn't resist rolling his eyes.

Longtail noticed. "In a bad mood today, kittypet?"

"You're alive and breathing, Longtail. What cat _wouldn't _be in a bad mood?" Fireheart snapped back.

The pale tabby glared at him. "You'll want to watch your mouth," he warned. "Tigerclaw won't be pleased if he hears you talk that way to me."

"Yes, yes, he'll be horrified, I'm sure," Fireheart meowed dismissively. He knew he was being rude, but he was too irritated to care about basic courtesy at the moment. "You know, just once I'd like to see you handle a dispute _without _running off to Tigerclaw like some sort of pathetic kit. Darkstripe too, for that matter."

Longtail bared his teeth in a snarl. Fireheart just snorted and shoved past him, in no mood to deal with his enemy's antics. The pale tabby was jostled roughly as Fireheart knocked into him, sending him off-balance for a heartbeat. A few tail-lengths away, Swiftpaw crouched down and watched the two warriors bicker with wide eyes.

"Hey! Get back. You're not leading this patrol, I am!" Longtail snapped, racing to catch up with Fireheart.

"Then hurry up and get moving, mouse-brain," Fireheart growled.

Fortunately, the next few moments were relatively uneventful. About halfway to the RiverClan border, Longtail decided to allow the patrol to stop and hunt for a while. Fireheart watched as Swiftpaw crept up on a vole, killing it in one swift motion. For all his arrogance, the tom's technique certainly left a lot to be desired. His motions were rigid and stiff and his face was screwed up in concentration, as though performing a basic hunter's crouch was some sort of impracticable task.

_How long has it been since he started training? _the ginger tom wondered. He thought for a few heartbeats. _A little over three moons, I think? So he doesn't have long to go until his warrior assessment, now that I think about it. _

With a start, Fireheart realized that also meant that Brackenpaw, Brightpaw, and Thornpaw would be having their assessments in only a few short moons as well. Although younger than Swiftpaw, they had started their training roughly around the same time as he had. He felt a prickle of excitement at the thought of ThunderClan getting new warriors–and ones that were trained by his friends, no less.

But Fireheart couldn't suppress a twinge of sorrow when he remembered that Cinderpaw would be left behind. When the time came, she would be the only one of her littermates not to receive her warrior name. Of course, he had known from the start that this would be the case and he knew that she would receive it eventually, but that didn't mean it didn't still sting.

_Are you living vicariously through Cinderpaw or something? _he asked himself in amusement.

He let out a sigh. It was true, though. Fireheart had dedicated so much of his time to helping Cinderpaw overcome her disability that he almost felt that if she failed to become a warrior, he had failed as well. Perhaps it was foolish, but that was the way it was.

"Move it, kittypet!" he heard Longtail snap. "I thought you were the one who wanted to hurry up and keep going?"

"Coming, Longtail. Just don't get your tail in a twist," Fireheart replied, getting to his paws and stretching his back legs.

They continued along their way to the RiverClan border. Every so often, Longtail would stop them so he could test Swiftpaw's hunting abilities. It was a good idea, except for the fact that the pale tabby didn't offer anything in the way of constructive criticism. As a matter of fact, he seemed determined to feed Swiftpaw's ego instead of actually correcting his mistakes.

"Well done, Swiftpaw. Excellent work," Longtail meowed after Swiftpaw caught a mouse in what was possibly the clumsiest manner Fireheart had ever seen. Turning to the ginger tom, he continued, "See that, kittypet? That's the marking of a true warrior right there. You're wasting your time trying to train a cripple, but even if she _did _have use of all her legs, she'd still never become a warrior with a mentor like you."

"Yes, I suppose Swiftpaw's technique was decent enough. At least he managed to catch the mouse," Fireheart retorted coolly, trying to suppress the rage he felt boiling beneath his pelt.

Longtail bristled indignantly and Swiftpaw meowed, "What do you mean, decent enough?"

"Do you really want to know?" Fireheart asked. The younger tom nodded. "Alright. Your sense of balance is good, and as I said before, at least you caught the mouse. But your movements are absolutely terrible. You stalk like an elder with aching joints, which means you lack speed, and for the love of StarClan, don't clench your jaw like you're in pain!"

Swiftpaw dropped his gaze to the ground.

Shifting his attention back to Longtail, Fireheart continued, "You can't just tell him that everything he's doing is fine when anyone in the forest can see that it's not. Your job as a mentor is to correct his mistakes, not make him feel good. You're not doing him any favors by not offering him constructive criticism and tips on how to fix the things he needs to work on."

"What would you know about it, kittypet? At least _my _apprentice didn't get hit by a monster!" Longtail growled, turning around and storming off towards the RiverClan border again.

Fireheart rolled his eyes and padded after him. If Longtail was going to throw a hissy fit over his mentoring skills being criticized, it wasn't really his problem.

When they reached the RiverClan border, however, their dispute was immediately pushed to the back of everyone's minds. The fast-flowing river had burst its banks until it lapped the grass barely a tail-length from Fireheart's paws. Farther upstream, Sunningrocks lay right in the middle of a vast, shimmering lake.

"Great StarClan!" Swiftpaw exclaimed.

Longtail padded forward and sniffed at the water. "Come on, let's get back. We can't patrol the border now and we need to report this to Tigerclaw," he meowed.

"Shouldn't _Bluestar _be the one we bring this news to?" Fireheart pointed out.

"Whatever," Longtail replied, flicking his tail. "Let's get moving. We need to inform the Clan of what's happened as soon as possible."

They made their way back to the camp in silence, not even bothering to continue their argument from before. Fireheart's mind was whirling. He had thought that the arrival of newleaf would put a temporary end to the Clan's struggles, but now it looked as though StarClan had more in store for them. It wasn't hard to imagine prey, or worse, cats drowning in that ominous, swiftly churning water.

How long would it be, Fireheart wondered, until StarClan finally allowed them to have at least one season of peace?


	8. Troubles Training

Fireheart led Cinderpaw down to the sandy hollow where the apprentices' battle training sessions were held, followed closely by Swiftpaw. After delivering the news of the flooded river to Bluestar, Longtail had complained about Fireheart's criticism of his apprentice to Tigerclaw, who had seen fit to force Fireheart into spending a day training Swiftpaw.

"If you think you can do better as a mentor, by all means, do so," the dark tabby had growled.

Fireheart suppressed a sigh, rolling his eyes to himself. It wasn't that he minded training two apprentices–he certainly had experience in that area already–but Swiftpaw didn't seem to have any respect for anyone except Longtail, Bluestar, Tigerclaw, and maybe Darkstripe. Even his own denmates weren't fond of him, and it wasn't hard to see why. The fact that Fireheart was Longtail's enemy _and _a former kittypet assured the ginger tom that Swiftpaw would be sure to make his job as difficult as possible.

When they reached the training hollow, Fireheart turned to face the two apprentices and meowed, "Alright. Cinderpaw, since you still need to work on adjusting to battling with your leg, we won't hold a training battle today. Instead, we'll just work on correcting any technical errors. Cinderpaw, you'll work on the front-paw swipe. Swiftpaw, what move has Longtail been working with you on lately?"

However, it seemed that Swiftpaw was determined to be difficult right from the start. "I'm not doing this," he meowed rudely. "You're not my mentor, so don't tell me what to do."

"I may not be your real mentor," Fireheart acknowledged, trying to keep a snarl out of his voice. "But I'm a warrior and I'm responsible for your training today, so you will obey orders. I'm not giving you a choice, Swiftpaw. Either we find a move for you to work on, or I can speak to Bluestar about your insubordination, which may or may not end up preventing you from receiving your warrior name."

"You wouldn't do that," Swiftpaw growled, a challenge flashing in his pale amber eyes. "Longtail and Tigerclaw would never let that happen."

"Longtail and Tigerclaw aren't the ones who decide when apprentices are made into warriors. Bluestar is," Fireheart replied coldly. Cinderpaw glanced between her mentor and denmate, watching the exchange eagerly. "If you can't learn how to show a bit of basic respect, then you don't deserve to be a warrior. ThunderClan needs loyal warriors it can count on, not mouthy, arrogant little apprentices who bring shame upon their Clanmates. You're the oldest apprentice in ThunderClan, Swiftpaw, but you behave like a kit. Cut the attitude now, or else you'll do nothing but disgrace your Clan."

"FINE!" Swiftpaw snarled, most likely frightening off all the prey between the training hollow and Highstones. "Fine! I'll work on a battle move if it means you'll stop bothering me!"

"Good choice," Fireheart replied in a voice like ice. "And since you see fit to behave like a kit, you can work on the front-paw swipe like Cinderpaw. Don't even think about complaining. If what I saw of your hunting technique was any indication, you're probably in desperate need of help on basic fighting moves as well. Now, you've wasted enough of everyone's time by complaining, so I suggest you both get started. Cinderpaw, let me see you try it first."

Cinderpaw nodded and stepped towards the center of the hollow. Narrowing her eyes in concentration, she reared back on her hind legs–or leg, rather, as she couldn't balance on her crippled limb–and prepared to bring her right forepaw down, as though about to slice her claws across an enemy warrior's face. At the last second, however, the dark gray molly lost her balance and fell over onto her side with a thump.

Swiftpaw laughed cruelly, his face twisted into a sneer. Fireheart shot him a sharp look before hurrying over to check on his apprentice.

"Are you alright?" he asked worriedly.

Cinderpaw stood up, shaking the dust from her pelt. "I'm okay, Fireheart," she meowed, but her ears were flat with embarrassment.

"That's good. Well, I'd be lying if I said that was a spectacular first attempt, but you're still adjusting, so I won't fault you for it," Fireheart meowed. "We'll keep on practicing, and eventually, you'll be able to balance just fine."

"Okay," Cinderpaw agreed, looking a little more cheerful.

"Now, as for you," Fireheart growled, turning to face the still-snickering Swiftpaw. "It's your turn to try the move, so shut up already and get to it."

Swiftpaw glared at him and stalked over to the spot where Cinderpaw had stood just moments before. He reared back on his hind legs and brought his right forepaw down, his claws unsheathed. The overall technique was decent, Fireheart admitted, but there was a definite lack of aggression to the move, particularly when it came to the actual blow. His angle was also slightly off, which likely added to the lack of force behind the attack. In all honesty, the way Swiftpaw performed, it looked more like a kit move than a battle move used often by seasoned warriors.

"That wasn't terrible," Fireheart meowed. "But there's definitely room for improvement. For starters, when you brought your paw down, your angle was off and it caused the move to look sloppy. Second of all, if you were to use that move in an actual battle, you need to be a lot more aggressive than what I just saw. Don't hold anything back because if you do, you can rest assured that your enemies will take advantage of it."

"Longtail said I was doing it just fine," the black and white tom argued.

"_Longtail _wouldn't know good battling technique looked like if it hit him over the head," Fireheart snapped. "Nor, it seems, does he know what good mentoring looks like. Tell me, does he ever offer you any sort of constructive criticism, or does he only ever tell you that you've done a fantastic job, regardless of whether your skill in a particular area is laughable at best?"

"Don't talk about my mentor that way!" Swiftpaw growled. "And he doesn't need to criticize me. I do everything just fine! Obviously better than anything a kittypet like _you _could do."

"Fireheart is a warrior, not a kittypet, you worthless heap of fox dung!" Cinderpaw snarled, her hackles raised. Fireheart placed the tip of his tail gently on her shoulder to calm her, then turned to Swiftpaw again.

"From what I've seen, _fine _is not the way I'd describe your hunting or fighting skills," he meowed. "If you can't even perform a basic front-paw swipe or hunter's crouch with absolute perfection after more than three moons of training, you have no chance of receiving your warrior name on time–if at all. Your ego is not more important than your training, so learn to start taking corrections without throwing a temper tantrum."

For a moment, Swiftpaw looked as though he were about to leap at Fireheart. Then he turned away, stalking to the edge of the hollow and sitting down with his back to Fireheart and Cinderpaw. Fireheart turned away, in no mood to continue wasting his breath on the arrogant apprentice.

"Right," he meowed to Cinderpaw. "While he's over there sulking, let's practice your front-paw swipe a few more times. Remember, if it helps to do it more slowly while you're still learning to balance yourself, feel free to do so."

They continued training until sunset. Fireheart had Cinderpaw practice the front-paw swipe over and over until she was able to perform the attack without falling over and with a decent amount of power. At one point, Swiftpaw tried to rejoin the training session, but the flame-colored warrior wasn't having it.

"You chose to throw a fit over being corrected and abandoned the session. Now you can deal with the consequences," he told him. "I'm not in the business of training disrespectful apprentices who let themselves get blinded by their own ego. If you want to act like a kit, then you'll be treated as one. You can sit on the side and watch until we're done. And if I end up taking you out again, I will only allow you to join in on training sessions _when _and _if _you learn to grow up and start acting like a warrior."

Later that evening, the three cats walked back to the camp, exhausted but more or less pleased with how the day had gone. Well, with the exception of Swiftpaw, but neither Fireheart nor Cinderpaw were interested in him at the moment. When they arrived back home, Fireheart dismissed the two apprentices before heading over to the fresh-kill pile to pick something out for Sandstorm. Before he could get there, however, he was intercepted by Tigerclaw and Longtail.

"Fireheart," the deputy growled. "How was your training session with Swiftpaw and Cinderpaw?"

"_Cinderpaw _did just fine," Fireheart replied. "Swiftpaw, on the other hand, could use a _lot _of corrections on basic fighting techniques, as well as a lesson in manners."

"Meaning?" Longtail snapped.

"Meaning he chose to defy and challenge every order I gave him, as well as throwing a temper tantrum when I offered him corrections on his front-paw swipe," Fireheart meowed, turning his attention to the pale tabby. "He seems to be under the impression that he performs everything perfectly, no thanks to you, so he isn't mature enough to handle criticism. And because of that, Swiftpaw chose to sit on the side and sulk while Cinderpaw was practicing. Now, if you don't mind, I've delivered my report and I'd like to be on my way now."

Without giving Tigerclaw or Longtail another chance to respond, Fireheart pushed past them and continued towards the fresh-kill pile. He selected a juicy-looking thrush for Sandstorm and carried it to the nursery, ignoring the two older warriors as they glared after him. It certainly wasn't difficult to see where Swiftpaw gained his attitude from, Fireheart noted to himself in amusement. He sighed to himself. At first, he had hoped for Swiftpaw's sake that Longtail would prove to be a better mentor than hunter or fighter, but it didn't look as though that was the case. Then again, this was Longtail he was talking about, so he really shouldn't have been surprised.

Fireheart entered the nursery, padding over to Sandstorm and placing the thrush down in front of her. She purred happily, her eyes glowing with gratitude.

"Thank you," Sandstorm meowed.

"You're welcome," Fireheart purred.

"Hi, Fireheart!" Squirrelkit meowed, jumping up slightly and pawing at her father's foreleg.

"Did you bring something for us too?" Rainkit asked eagerly, her blue eyes shining.

"Rainkit, you can't eat meat yet, you know that," Sandstorm scolded her daughter gently. At Rainkit's crestfallen look, she added, "Don't worry, when you're older, you can have all the prey you want–well, as long as you save some for the rest of the Clan."

"I can catch prey for you. I'm going to be the best hunter in the entire Clan," Spotkit announced.

"No, you're not! I am!" Redkit yowled.

"I'm sure you'll both be wonderful hunters _and _fighters," Fireheart purred, licking each of his sons atop their heads. "Just remember to stick to the warrior code and always listen to what your mentors tell you to do."

Spotkit and Redkit nodded eagerly. Fireheart heard Goldenflower purr from her nest, a few tail-lengths away from Sandstorm.

"You're a good father to those kits, Fireheart. They're lucky to have someone like you," she meowed. Fireheart couldn't help thinking that there was something almost wistful about her mew.

"Er, thank you. I'm sure Tigerclaw must be a good father as well," he meowed awkwardly.

Goldenflower flicked her ear. "Well, we won't know for sure until my kits arrive," she meowed. "But I hardly ever see him these days. Of course, I'm sure he's busy with his duties, but it does get lonely when your mate doesn't visit you for days–especially when you're expecting his kits."

"I'm sorry," Fireheart meowed, not entirely sure what else to say.

The ginger queen just waved him off. "Oh, enough of all that," she meowed. "I heard you had to take Swiftpaw out today. How did it go?"

Fireheart hesitated for a few moments. He didn't want to upset Goldenflower by giving her a detailed account of her son's blatant arrogance and disrespect, but at the same time, he couldn't exactly lie to her. She would be able to see right through him, and anyway, what was the point in hiding something like that?

"Put it this way," he meowed finally. "When I told him and Cinderpaw that we were going to work on technical corrections today, the first words out of his mouth were that I'm not his mentor and I shouldn't be telling him what to do."

Goldenflower sighed. "I'm sorry, Fireheart," she apologized. "He was always a bit headstrong, even as a kit. I guess having Longtail as a mentor hasn't helped much."

"Not really," Fireheart agreed, his whiskers twitching in amusement. "But it's fine. He'll learn eventually, I'm sure."

He conversed with the queens for a few more moments before finally leaving the nursery. Upon returning to the clearing, he could see that Swiftpaw was once again isolated from his denmates, nibbling crossly on a mouse. Several tail-lengths away, Cinderpaw was talking to Brackenpaw, Brightpaw, and Thornpaw, who were all listening intently while shooting occasional glares in Swiftpaw's direction.

Fireheart left them to it. After today's training session, he was too tired to deal with petty apprentice squabbles–and besides, it wasn't as though Swiftpaw hadn't brought it on himself. He turned away and padded to the warriors' den, intent on getting a few hours of well-deserved sleep.

* * *

**Fireheart sure doesn't screw around, lol. Swiftpaw had better learn some respect if he wants to become a warrior. And Longtail needs to get better at mentoring. Really. **

**By the way, in this AU, Mistyfoot and Blackclaw are not mates, so she doesn't have her kits. I might consider giving her some later, but I absolutely despise the Misty x Black ship since he was a complete piece of shit to her in the later series, so they aren't together in my story. **

**Actually, considering that Mistyfoot always seemed to be closer to her brother and adopted mother than anyone else (and Silverstream as well), maybe I just won't give her a mate and kits at all. I'll have to think more about it later. **

**Thanks for reading! **

**-TheShadowedWarrior**


	9. Finding A Path

A few days after Fireheart's disastrous attempt at mentoring the ever-stubborn Swiftpaw, Bluestar called him to join her and Tigerclaw, who was seated beside the gorse tunnel with Whitestorm. Swallowing the last bite of his mouse, the ginger tom rose to his paws and padded over to join his leader and the two senior warriors.

"Yes, Bluestar?" he meowed politely, dipping his head to her.

"Fireheart, I want you to join Tigerclaw and Whitestorm on their patrol to see if we can find a path to the Gathering," Bluestar meowed.

Fireheart flicked his ears in surprise. "Are we still going?" he asked curiously. The flood had gone down slightly, but part of their territory was still covered by water. He couldn't think of any way they could cross all the way to Fourtrees unless they swam, which didn't appeal to him at all.

"We have to try," Tigerclaw growled. "StarClan would be angry if we didn't show up. But more importantly, we don't want to make ourselves seem weak in front of the other Clans, especially since ShadowClan and RiverClan will still be looking to even the score against us for helping WindClan."

That sounded fairly reasonable, so Fireheart merely nodded. He wasn't looking forward to being forced to spend the afternoon patrolling with Tigerclaw, but if Whitestorm was coming, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. Tigerclaw never seemed quite as hostile whenever the great white warrior was around.

After bidding a quick farewell to Bluestar, the three warriors strode out of the camp and in the direction of Fourtrees. As they padded through the forest, Fireheart was distracted by the rustling sounds in the undergrowth as the prey scurried about. Whitestorm caught him glancing in the direction of a bush once and motioned with his tail for the flame-colored warrior to keep up. Fireheart didn't need to ask to know what he meant. They didn't want to do anything that might give Tigerclaw an excuse to give him a hard time.

Soon, however, Tigerclaw stopped and meowed, "With the prey running so well, it would be foolish not to take advantage of the opportunity for a hunt. You two, feel free to hunt for yourselves for a while–as long as you make sure to catch something for the rest of the Clan."

Fireheart couldn't help feeling as though the last part was directed towards him alone. He rolled his eyes inwardly; even after over a moon, Tigerclaw still hadn't forgiven him for letting Silverstream escape. Fortunately, as Fireheart and several other warriors from the other Clans had witnessed the dark tabby take one of Crookedstar's nine lives, he couldn't say anything to Bluestar about what had happened.

Twitching his whiskers in satisfaction, Fireheart turned and scanned the undergrowth for any sign of prey. As his eyes roamed the bushes, an exceptionally speedy vole came bursting across his path. In an instant, the ginger warrior was after it, catching it quickly and killing it with a sharp bite to the neck.

"Well caught, Fireheart," Tigerclaw meowed.

"Thanks, Tigerclaw," Fireheart replied politely, dropping his vole before turning away in search of more prey.

Not long after, Fireheart and Whitestorm had managed to catch two mice, three squirrels, and a pheasant in addition to Fireheart's vole. As irritable as Tigerclaw usually was, even he couldn't find something to criticize. Indeed, for a moment, Fireheart could have sworn that the dark tabby almost looked _pleased_.

_Tigerclaw, looking pleased? Now I've seen_ _everything. _

"You've done well, both of you," the deputy meowed. "Let's take a short break and eat. Whitestorm, share this squirrel with me. Fireheart, take whichever piece you want."

_This is just a day for miracles. He looks happy _and _we managed to squeeze two compliments out of him today. _

Fireheart selected a mouse from the pile and settled down a few tail-lengths away from the older warriors. He bit into his prey and chewed slowly, acutely aware of Whitestorm's gaze on him. The flame-colored warrior flicked his ears, wondering what it was that Whitestorm found so interesting about him. It wasn't the first time he had caught him watching him either; Fireheart had seen the great white warrior gazing at him from a distance multiple times a day ever since the birth of his and Sandstorm's kits.

Once everyone had finished their meals, they buried the rest of the pile to take back to the camp later and continued on their way. Fireheart followed Whitestorm and Tigerclaw through the forest, feeling much more refreshed after his afternoon patrol snack. As they were nearing Fourtrees, Whitestorm suddenly turned to Fireheart.

"So, how's your training with Cinderpaw going?" he asked.

"Oh, it–it's going fine," Fireheart answered, startled at being addressed so abruptly. "She's a fast learner, that's for sure. And eager too. Granted, it does take her a bit longer to learn and relearn certain skills, but once she masters them, you can hardly tell that there's anything wrong with her leg at all."

"That's good to hear," Whitestorm meowed warmly. "You're a good mentor, Fireheart."

"T-thank you," Fireheart stammered. "But I don't think I'm that great. I mean, I couldn't even get Swiftpaw to listen to me the other day. He chose to abandon the training session because he got upset with me for criticizing him. A good mentor would have been able to get him to cut the attitude right from the start, wouldn't they?"

"Not always." To Fireheart's surprise, it was Tigerclaw who answered. "When I mentored Darkstripe, he had the same problem. He didn't take well to corrections, so he would sulk and refuse to continue training unless I told him that he had performed a move absolutely perfectly. But he grew out of it eventually. Sometimes, it's best to just let young cats do their own thing. Tell me, how did you handle Swiftpaw's behavior?"

"I ignored him and focused on helping Cinderpaw," Fireheart admitted. "He tried to join in again later, but I didn't let him. I told him that he had chosen to throw a tantrum and refuse to train, and he could suffer the consequences. I didn't think it was fair to allow him to infringe on Cinderpaw's training time when she was the only one who actually seemed interested in putting in the effort and was mature enough not to act like a kit whenever I corrected her."

"Then you did fine," the dark tabby meowed simply.

Fireheart opened his mouth to reply, then paused as the patrol reached the stream separating ThunderClan from Fourtrees. Tigerclaw let out a long, soft hiss and Whitestorm sighed in exasperation. The stream, usually shallow enough for a cat to cross by leaping from one stepping stone to another, had burst its banks. It was much too wide for anyone to leap across, and the stepping stones were completely submerged.

"Come on," Tigerclaw growled. "Let's move further upstream to see if there's anything we can use to cross."

_There'd better be, _Fireheart thought. _Because I'm not going to the Gathering if we have to swim. _

He padded alongside the edge of the stream. A few heartbeats later, he heard Tigerclaw's voice from farther upstream. "Come here! Look at this!"

The dark tabby was standing at the foot of a branch that stretched to the opposite bank with Whitestorm seated a tail-length away. It was a thin branch, with dead leaves still hanging from its twigs. Every so often, the branch gave a jerk as though the current would sweep it away at any moment.

"Just what we need," Tigerclaw grunted in satisfaction. "Fireheart, check that it's safe, will you?"

"Hold on, Tigerclaw," Whitestorm interrupted. "See how unsteady the branch is? If we send Fireheart onto that, there's a good chance it will dislodge itself and send him into the stream."

"It's okay," Fireheart spoke up. "I can test it out. I'll be careful."

"I'm sure you will be," Whitestorm replied, turning his yellow gaze on him. "But it's not a risk worth taking. Any cat can tell that this branch isn't safe enough to cross. We'll need to try to find a different way to get to Fourtrees, and if that doesn't work, we'll just have to hope that the water goes down by the Gathering night."

"Whitestorm–" Tigerclaw meowed, but the large white warrior cut him off.

"Tigerclaw, don't forget what happened the last time Fireheart was hurt on your watch," Whitestorm interrupted sternly. "If he drowns, well, do you really think Bluestar has forgotten her promise?"

Tigerclaw flattened his ears and growled, while Fireheart glanced between the two great warriors in confusion. What was Whitestorm talking about? What promise had Bluestar made? More importantly, why did Tigerclaw look like an apprentice being chastised for taking prey before the elders and queens were fed?

"Very well," the deputy growled. "We'll find a different path."

Try as they might, however, there didn't seem to be any way to cross over to Fourtrees that they could see. Eventually, Tigerclaw decided that they would have to call it a day. They were wasting time searching for a way to cross that obviously wasn't there, and besides, they needed to pick up their prey to take back to the camp soon. Fireheart didn't object, more than happy to get back to the camp and off his paws for a while.

As they carried their load back towards the ThunderClan camp, Fireheart's mind was whirling with questions. Why had Tigerclaw tried to send him onto the branch? Surely he must have seen that it was unsafe; the dark tabby was many things, but stupid was not one of them. He would have known right from the start that there was no way anyone could cross that branch.

_Was that his plan all along? _Fireheart wondered. Why else would Tigerclaw order him to perform such an obviously dangerous, not to mention rather pointless, task?

Then he shook his head. Tigerclaw might not have been his closest friend or even someone he considered himself to be on remotely cordial terms with, but there was no reason for him to want to _kill _Fireheart. Besides, even if there was, he would be clever enough not to attempt anything in front of Whitestorm. The great white warrior sometimes seemed almost as protective of him as Bluestar was.

Still, that left the question as to why Tigerclaw tried to force him to cross the branch in the first place. If it wasn't attempted murder, then what were his motives?

Fireheart shook his head and continued walking. Attempted murder or not, he didn't have time to dwell on it. They still needed to find a way to the Gathering somehow–but first, he was looking forward to getting some rest after being on his paws nearly all afternoon.

* * *

**Poor Fireheart's been through enough already, so I decided to spare him his little trip into the stream. So yes, Whitestorm came on the patrol this time since there's no way he would let Tigerclaw put Bluestar's son in harm's way. At least Bluestar won't have a heart attack when they get back. **

**Next chapter is the Gathering...no Brokentail drama this time, so it should be relatively peaceful. Right? Right? Well, that is, assuming ThunderClan can even get to the Gathering. **

**Thanks for reading! **

**-TheShadowedWarrior**


	10. Revelations

A few days later, Fireheart curled up in his nest as Bluestar led the Gathering patrol out of the camp. He had volunteered to stay behind tonight, being too exhausted to spend an entire night in the presence of the other Clans. Once again, Fireheart had been asked to take Swiftpaw out for a training session, and once again, the young tom had stubbornly refused to listen to a word he said. Fireheart had been forced to kick him out of the training session a second time, and by the end of the day, they had both been short-tempered and irritable. If he had to put up with enemy warriors tonight, he didn't think he would be able to keep from snapping and breaking the truce.

Part of Fireheart wondered if having a talk with Goldenflower might do Swiftpaw some good. It was clear that something was bothering the apprentice, but he couldn't figure out what. If it had only been Fireheart he had a problem with, the ginger tom would have brushed it off. But clearly, that wasn't the case. From what Fireheart had seen, Swiftpaw didn't get along well with his denmates or any of the other warriors. It wasn't hard to guess why the black and white tom hated him so much–he could easily imagine Longtail trying to fill his apprentice's head with foolish ideas about kittypets–but there was no reason for Longtail to turn him against his denmates or anyone else in the Clan.

That would have to wait until later, however. For now, Fireheart was perfectly content to just curl up in his nest and ignore his problems for a few hours.

Unfortunately, as it turned out, StarClan had other ideas in mind. No sooner had Fireheart closed his eyes than he found himself in the middle of the ThunderClan camp once again. As usual, it was utterly deserted.

_Not again!_ he thought, groaning to himself in frustration. _How is it that I'm still getting stuck in this same stupid dream? _

In the midst of his annoyance, it took Fireheart to realize that there _was _something different about the dream this time. He could see the queen, but there was no sign of the kit anywhere. Yet at the same time, he couldn't hear the grief-stricken wailing that always accompanied the kit's mysterious disappearance.

_What in the world? _

Fireheart glanced around the empty clearing in confusion. That was when he noticed another change. The camp seemed much bigger now, even larger than it had appeared when he joined the Clan as a tiny apprentice. Looking down at himself, he soon realized the reason for this. His legs were much shorter than before, and his body seemed to have shrunk. Although he was standing at his full height, the ground seemed barely a tail-length away from his nose.

"I'm a kit?" he squeaked. His voice had suddenly become much higher than before. He was taller now, most likely a fully grown warrior if he had to guess.

What in the world was going on? Why was _he _suddenly part of the dream now? He had never been a ThunderClan kit; he had been a kittypet, used to the soft comforts of Twolegplace.

_Well, I guess that proves that I'm not having prophetic dreams, _Fireheart mused. _But if it's not a prophecy, then why am I still having the same dream over and over? _

He looked over at the queen, hoping that she might be able to give him some sort of hint, only to cry out in horror. No longer was he in the middle of the ThunderClan camp. Instead, he was trapped inside a dark, overheated, stuffy space with no familiar scents and a ground that was entirely too smooth to be the forest floor. Glancing around in a slight panic, he stumbled through the darkness until he came across a beam of light shining in through what he assumed had to be some sort of wall. Fireheart clambered over towards the light and finally saw the moon filtering in through the strange wall, as well as the trees that lined the edge of the forest and an all-too-familiar wooden fence.

_I'm...in Twolegplace? _he realized in shock. _But how? _

_"No!" _

Fireheart froze, terror rippling through his veins. The cry had come from his own mouth, but he himself wasn't the one who had spoken. It was almost as though someone else was crying out through his voice.

_But that's impossible, _he tried to argue. _No one could possibly be in control of my voice except for me. But if that's the case, then why...? _

Once again, Fireheart's mind was incredibly slow on the uptake. He was so busy wondering why someone had stolen his voice that he almost failed to notice the fact that the surrounding darkness was silent, the queen's anguished wails still having yet to reach his ears.

_"Let me out!" _

There it was again. That same voice was crying out once more, using his body as a means of communicating. But who was he yowling at?

_"I want my mom! I don't want to live here! Bluestar?! Mother?! MAMA!" _

Suddenly, Fireheart found himself transported back into the ThunderClan camp. He was taller now, most likely a fully grown warrior if he had to take a guess. Once again, the kit was nowhere to be seen, but he could see the queen. This time, however, he was able to make out Bluestar's features clearly. Yet there was something different about her as well. Her blue eyes were still glowing with affection, but it wasn't the same as the look she usually gave him. The look in her eyes now reminded him more of the way Sandstorm looked at him, and her belly was swollen with the kits that would soon be on their way.

_"Thrushpelt," _the dream-Bluestar purred. _"How was the hunting today?" _

_"Good." _Fireheart was less startled this time when a voice, deeper this time, spoke through his mouth once again. _"I just hope that it will continue to run well. Our kits need you to have as much to eat as possible, after all." _

So this Thrushpelt cat must have been Bluestar's mate, and by extent, the father of her kits. Briefly, Fireheart wondered what had happened to him. He had never met the tom when he joined ThunderClan. Fireheart supposed he must have passed away sometime before his arrival.

Caught up as he was in his thoughts, the flame-colored warrior almost didn't notice as he was transported into another scene. This time, he was inside the ThunderClan nursery, although he was still looking through Thrushpelt's eyes. His eyes roamed the nursery and he was able to make out the faint outlines of two other queens and their kits, although their features weren't defined enough for him to figure out who they were.

_"What do you think of Firekit for his name?" _

After having his body used by two different disembodied voices, Fireheart hadn't thought that anything could shock him now. A quick glance in the dream-Bluestar's direction, however, proved that was utterly false.

The ThunderClan leader was curled protectively around a small kit with an achingly familiar ginger pelt.

Fireheart never heard Thrushpelt's response. He jolted awake suddenly, finding himself surrounded by the familiar scents and sounds of the warriors' den as the few warriors who hadn't gone to the Gathering slept peacefully. For once, however, Fireheart didn't stop to see if he'd accidentally woken anyone up while he was dreaming.

_It was me, _he thought, his head spinning. _I was one of Bluestar's lost kits._

* * *

It only made sense, now that Fireheart thought about it.

Bluestar had always been overprotective of him, even compared to a typical mentor. Granted, she wanted to protect all her warriors, but he seemed to be a special case. She never sat in the medicine den with anyone else when they were injured, and the only times he could remember her breaking down–or nearly doing so–were when he had nearly died twice, once after the battle at Sunningrocks and once when ShadowClan had invaded their camp.

Honestly, he should have realized something was going on when Rainkit turned out to be almost a complete copy of Bluestar. And hadn't Speckletail told him that he was about the same age that Bluestar's youngest kit would have been now? Between his dreams and all the strange coincidences surrounding him and his offspring, it was almost amazing that it had taken him this long to realize the truth.

_What am I supposed to tell Bluestar now? _Fireheart wondered.

He knew that he would have to speak to his mentor–no, his mother, he reminded himself–about what he had discovered. But how was he supposed to broach the subject? Even though he knew it had to be true, he was still having a difficult time believing it himself.

_But wait, I must be making a mistake, _he thought with a frown. _Nutmeg told me that I was given to her from another kittypet queen after she passed away. Didn't she? _

No, Fireheart realized a moment later, no, he was wrong about that. He had asked Nutmeg about his parents–it wasn't hard to see that he was different from the rest of her litter–and she had simply told him that her housefolk had brought him to her one night, hungry and mewling for food. She hadn't said one thing about his birth mother, nor anything about her origins.

_Great StarClan above. _

He was Bluestar's kit. Well, one of them at least. He had never been born a kittypet; he had been a ThunderClan-born warrior this entire time.

However, that brought up another question. If he was a Clanborn cat, how had he ended up in Twolegplace? He couldn't possibly have made it there on his own as a tiny kit. It was much too far to walk, after all. Had someone left him there? And if they had, was it on purpose or an unfortunate accident?

The camp was beginning to grow lighter now as the sun rose steadily above the horizon. Fireheart knew the Gathering patrol would be returning soon, which meant he would soon be assigned to a patrol of some sort. Instead of rising from his nest, however, he curled up again and went back to sleep, not yet ready to deal with his Clanmates on top of the burden of what he now knew.

* * *

**HE KNOWS. **

**Okay, so I kind of lied. I _was _going to post a chapter about the Gathering, but there's absolutely nothing that happens that's worth mentioning since ThunderClan isn't sheltering Brokentail. **

**The drama isn't over yet, though. Well, obviously; if it was, there wouldn't be any need to go through the rest of the first series. I won't tell you too much of what happens, but let's just say that a certain bastard will be making a reappearance. **

**Thanks for reading! **

**-TheShadowedWarrior**


	11. Bluestar's Secret

"Fireheart, you–you look terrible."

Fireheart blinked up at Whitestorm–or, well, at least he thought it was Whitestorm. It was rather difficult to see through the strange haze clouding his vision. After figuring out the truth about Bluestar, the flame-colored warrior hadn't been able to get back to sleep despite his exhaustion. Now, his entire body ached and he felt strangely warm despite the fact that the weather still held the barest hint of a leaf-bare chill.

"I'm fine," he mumbled, struggling to get to his paws. "Just need to stretch my legs a little."

However, when he tried to stand, he stumbled and nearly fell over. Whitestorm managed to catch him and helped him back into his nest. Fireheart managed to mumble a few words of thanks, wishing more than anything that the great white warrior would leave him alone. He was still worn out and he desperately wanted to get some real sleep.

"I'll go fetch Yellowfang," Whitestorm meowed. "I think she needs to have a look at you. You're far too warm for my liking."

Fireheart barely heard a word of anything he said. Before Whitestorm had even finished speaking, the ginger tom had already curled up in his nest again and fallen asleep. Maybe this time, he thought hopefully, his dreams wouldn't be plagued by memories of his time in ThunderClan as a kit.

When Fireheart opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that he wasn't in the ThunderClan nursery. Instead, he was in the middle of a massive forest. Unlike the one he knew so well from ThunderClan, however, this one was dark, damp, and eerie. The sky was utterly black, as though it were the middle of the night, but there were no stars to be seen. The moon was gone as well, leaving Fireheart with nothing to guide his eyes.

"Hello?" he called out nervously. "Is anyone there?"

He hadn't really expected anyone to respond but to his surprise, almost as soon as he called out, a massive gray and white tom stepped out from behind a tree. Fireheart was surprised that he could still make out his features clearly despite the lack of visible light. The tom was _huge_, easily as big as Whitestorm and Tigerclaw, if not bigger. He had spiky gray and white fur that reminded Fireheart of thistles, and his face and pelt were torn and battle-scarred. His yellow eyes bored into Fireheart's green ones, causing something to stir inside the young warrior's mind.

_Where have I seen those eyes before? _

"Greetings, Fireheart," the strange tom meowed.

"You know my name?" Fireheart asked in surprise.

The tom flicked his ears impatiently. "Of course. It's the duty of every StarClan warrior to watch over the forest cats, after all. My name is Thistleclaw. I was once a ThunderClan warrior such as yourself, but I died a few seasons before you joined the Clan, defending our territory from a RiverClan patrol."

"Okay...Thistleclaw," Fireheart meowed, testing how the name sounded. "So...does that mean that this is StarClan? I always thought that it would look a lot nicer than this, at least based on what the elders always told us..."

"Not every aspect of ThunderClan territory is favorable," Thistleclaw pointed out. "Snakerocks, for one, often brings more harm than good, especially to careless apprentices. Is it really so hard to believe that StarClan territory might be the same?"

Fireheart paused for a moment to mull over the StarClan warrior's words, then nodded. He supposed it made sense.

"I can guess that you're wondering why I've decided to meet you here of all places," Thistleclaw continued, and Fireheart nodded. "The truth is, I need to give you a warning, but it's one that the rest of StarClan likely wouldn't agree with me sharing."

Fireheart didn't answer, not that he could have if he wanted to. He was too confused by everything that was going on. Instead, he stared at the gray and white warrior, waiting for him to continue speaking.

"I know you've finally realized that Bluestar is your mother," Thistleclaw meowed. "And I know that you want to talk to her about it. However, I'm here to advise you _not _to do that. It's in your best interest to continue pretending as though you're completely ignorant of the subject."

"But why?" Fireheart asked, finally finding his voice. "Why can't I tell her? What harm could possibly come of it?"

Thistleclaw sighed and gave what Fireheart supposed was meant to be a sympathetic look. "Because the truth is, Fireheart, you were never lost. You ended up in Twolegplace because Bluestar abandoned you when you were just a moon old."

Fireheart stared at the StarClan warrior for a few heartbeats, then burst out laughing. He couldn't help himself–it was so ridiculous, what Thistleclaw was claiming. Why would _Bluestar_ of all cats abandon her kits? It didn't sound like her at all.

"Oh, very funny," he snorted finally, once he was able to stop laughing. "This is all just a prank, isn't it? Well, congratulations. You _almost _had me there."

"StarClan warriors don't lie, Fireheart," Thistleclaw meowed softly.

"Why should I believe you?" Fireheart shot back. "I don't know anything about StarClan, do I? For all I know, you could be lying to me right now."

"Fireheart, you're not the first litter that Bluestar has abandoned. When she was still a warrior by the name of Bluefur, she gave her first litter to Oakheart so she could become ThunderClan deputy. Two of her kits live in RiverClan now, and the other died when Bluestar tried to drag her to Sunningrocks in the middle of leaf-bare."

"You're lying," Fireheart repeated, but for the first time, a shred of doubt crept into his mind. Was it possible that Thistleclaw was telling him the truth? After all, Mistyfoot and Stonefur did look extraordinarily like Bluestar. That couldn't entirely have been a coincidence.

"Think about this logically," the gray and white tom meowed. "You were in Twolegplace, right next to the forest, for five moons. Why did Bluestar never ask any of her warriors to check over there for any sign of you? In my day, the queens would have torn apart every bush in the forest if any of their kits went missing. Yet Bluestar made no real effort to find you. Why would she choose to give up when you were so close to home, if not because she never wanted you to begin with?"

"The truth is, Fireheart," Thistleclaw continued, "you're lucky that you even made it into Twolegplace at all. Bluestar abandoned you in the forest, for the foxes and badgers to pick at. It's a miracle that nothing happened to you before that Twoleg picked you up and took you back to its nest."

"But...but if what you say is true," Fireheart meowed, his voice faltering. "Then why did Bluestar welcome me back into ThunderClan?"

"I don't know," Thistleclaw admitted. "We can do many things here in StarClan, Fireheart, but we can't read minds. The best I can do is advise you to be wary of her motives. If there's one thing I know about Bluestar, it's that she always has them."

Fireheart tried to find a hole in Thistleclaw's explanation but wasn't able to see any. Nothing the gray and white tom said made sense, yet somehow, everything added up. The way Bluestar had somehow lost two litters in extremely mysterious circumstances, Mistyfoot and Stonefur's resemblance to her, the fact that he'd been living right under ThunderClan's nose for five moons and no one had bothered to check, and, perhaps most incriminating of all, the fact that Bluestar hadn't told him the truth herself. Surely, he thought, if she had meant for him to find out that she was his mother, she would have told him as soon as possible.

_She abandoned me, _the flame-pelted warrior thought. His insides felt hollow. _She abandoned me. Bluestar. My own mother. She abandoned me and left me to die in the middle of the forest. _

"I'm sorry, Fireheart," Thistleclaw meowed gently. "I wish I didn't have to be the one to tell you all this."

Fireheart just shook his head. Words of comfort meant nothing to him now. There was nothing anyone could say or do that would change the fact that Bluestar had abandoned him, _lied _to him, without remorse. She had allowed him to put up with taunts about his kittypet heritage, and the entire time, he had been a Clanborn warrior and she hadn't said one word about it to him. Why had she lied to him? Why didn't she want him? And how many other cats had been played for a fool as he had?

Distraught as he was, Fireheart almost didn't realize that he had woken up until a bundle of herbs was shoved underneath his nose. Lifting his head, he met the concerned gaze of Yellowfang as she looked over him. Bluestar wasn't with her, and Fireheart felt a wave of relief. He didn't know what he would say to her now.

"Eat those, Fireheart," the old medicine cat meowed gently. "And then get some rest. You'll feel better in no time."

Fireheart did as he was told and closed his eyes, but only because he was in no state to argue. The truth was, however, it would take a lot more than a pile of leaves to fix what was wrong with him now.


	12. Dilemma

_She's a liar. _

_There must be some mistake. _

_There's no mistake. She just never cared._

_I want to talk to her._

_I hate her. _

_No, I don't. _

The argument raged on inside Fireheart's mind, drowning out the voices of his Clanmates as they enjoyed an afternoon of rest in the newleaf sunshine. He watched them from the edge of the camp, bitterly resentful at their happiness. It was illogical, he knew, but he couldn't help himself. How could they be so cheerful when his entire world had just been turned on its head?

Out of the corner of his eye, Fireheart saw Bluestar pad out from her den beneath the Highrock. She glanced over at him, but he turned his head to avoid meeting her eyes. He could tell that she was confused and hurt by this, but he refused to give in to the temptation to look at her. Bluestar didn't deserve his attention now, he told himself firmly, especially not since she apparently saw fit to lie to him.

_But maybe she didn't lie, _a voice in his head reasoned. _Maybe this was just some big misunderstanding. _

Fireheart shook his head to himself and stared down at his paws. Even if Bluestar hadn't outright _lied _to him, she hadn't told him the truth either, which was just as bad. This wasn't just some stupid misunderstanding. She had been given multiple opportunities to tell him that she was his mother but had refused to take any of them. That didn't sound like a _misunderstanding _to him.

_What about all those times she stayed with you when you were sick or injured? _the voice reasoned. _If she didn't care, surely she wouldn't have bothered. _

_Or maybe she was just putting on an act so that the rest of the Clan wouldn't be suspicious, _Fireheart retorted.

_Surely you don't believe that. _

_I don't know what I believe at this point. I just found out that everything I believed about my life was a lie, and the cat responsible doesn't even have the courage to admit to it. Why should I believe now that Bluestar ever had good intentions when it came to me? _

Fireheart closed his eyes, longing for the voice to leave him alone. What was the point in trying to find excuses for Bluestar? He wasn't completely foolish; he knew that she at least cared _somewhat _for him. But it wasn't enough. It never had been. She hadn't cared enough to keep him, and now she didn't care enough to be bothered to tell him the truth about their relationship. If she couldn't be fully honest with him, it didn't count for anything.

_That's not fair. _

_Yes, it is. It's completely fair. Parents shouldn't lie to their kits unless they have to. What did Bluestar have to gain by hiding the truth from me? _

Shaking his head, Fireheart rose to his paws and padded towards the gorse tunnel, desperate to get away from the rest of the Clan for a while. Unfortunately for him, it looked as though StarClan had other plans in mind. No sooner had he reached the exit when Bluestar hurried over to catch up with him. Fireheart shut his eyes, silently praying for patience before turning to face his so-called mother.

"Is there something wrong, Bluestar?" he asked, forcing some semblance of politeness into his voice.

"Will you walk with me?" the blue-gray molly asked. "It's been a while since we had the chance to talk."

If Fireheart had been a little more disrespectful or at least a little less leery of attention, he would have refused right then and there. Fortunately or unfortunately, he had enough common sense not to make a scene in the middle of the camp. Of course, even if he had chosen to do so, it likely wouldn't have made much of a difference anyway.

"Sure," he agreed, turning and padding out of the gorse tunnel.

The two warriors walked through the forest in silence for a while, the only sounds coming from the cries of birds and the occasional rustling of a bush. Fireheart followed behind Bluestar, his pelt prickling with resentment and discomfort.

_Say something, will you? I thought you asked to come with me because you wanted to talk, _he thought irritably.

He wasn't entirely sure what made him do it, but the flame-pelted warrior chose to risk a glance in Bluestar's direction. At once, he wished that he hadn't. She was gazing at him with an all-too-familiar expression of pride and love. But instead of making him feel warm as it usually did, Fireheart could only feel cold and angry.

_Stop looking at me like that! You have no right to look at me like that now. _

"How have you been doing lately, Fireheart?" Bluestar asked finally.

"Fine," he answered curtly.

"I heard about what happened with you and Swiftpaw. I'm sorry you're having a difficult time with him," she continued.

_What happened between me and Swiftpaw has nothing to do with you. If you want to apologize, do it for your own actions or don't do it at all. _

"But I'm glad to see that at least Cinderpaw's training is coming along well," Bluestar went on.

Fireheart nodded but didn't meet his leader's eyes as he pounced on an unsuspecting squirrel. Her praise meant nothing to him. This conversation was the final proof he needed to know that she never intended to tell him who she was. Here they were, alone in the forest, with no one around to eavesdrop. It was the perfect opportunity. Once again, however, she was stubbornly refusing to make any mention of the fact that she was his mother.

"I went to visit your kits the other day," Bluestar meowed. "They're growing big and strong. You and Sandstorm are good parents, Fireheart."

That set Fireheart off. Without thinking, he replied bitterly, "Which I learned with no help from you."

"What do you mean?" Bluestar asked, frowning.

"Don't give me that heap of fox dung, Bluestar," Fireheart snapped. He knew he was being rude, but he was beyond caring. "You know perfectly well what I'm talking about, so don't even try to play innocent with me, _Mother_."

The act was up now. For a few heartbeats, there was nothing but silence as Bluestar stared at her son, her blue eyes wide with shock. Finally, after several tense moments, the ThunderClan leader found her voice again.

"How long have you known?" she asked.

"A few days," Fireheart answered coolly.

"How did you find out? Who told you?" Bluestar demanded.

"No one told me. I figured it out on my own," Fireheart snapped back. "And even if someone _had _told me, so what? At least _they _would have been honest with me."

Bluestar shook her head. "Fireheart, I'm so sorry–"

"Save it," the ginger tom hissed. "It's too late now. I've spent my _entire _time in ThunderClan having to work twice as hard as anyone else just to be able to prove that a kittypet can be a real warrior, and this whole time, I was your son and you never told me? You let me put up with harassment for _nothing _because you couldn't be bothered to tell me the truth."

"That's not it!" Bluestar protested. "I was going to tell you at some point, I promise. I just couldn't find the right time."

"Really?" Fireheart snorted disbelievingly. "So you mean to tell me that all those times we were alone in the medicine den or out on patrol, all those times you asked me to have a private conversation with you in your den, you couldn't _once _find a chance to explain everything to me?"

Bluestar stared at him, and for a moment, she looked as though she might cry. Fireheart averted his gaze, trying to squash the feelings of pity rising up inside of him. She didn't deserve his sympathy anymore, he told himself firmly.

"Fireheart, listen to me. I promise you that I had every intention of telling you the truth someday," she pleaded. "Surely you must know that I would never lie to you."

"Clearly I don't," Fireheart replied flatly. "After all, you've spent the last several moons lying to my face every single day. And besides...even if I was stupid enough to believe you now, I still wouldn't ever forgive you. I know the truth, Bluestar. I know that you gave up your kits to become Clan deputy."

If it were possible for a cat to go pale, Fireheart suspected that Bluestar would have done so right then and there. She stumbled backward, her blue eyes wide with shock.

"Who told you?" she whispered. "Who, Fireheart?"

"It doesn't matter," Fireheart replied coldly. "The point is, I know. I know that your greed for power meant more to you than your own family–you see, you don't even deny it! You don't even deny that's what your children have always been to you: a mere obstacle to be overcome so you can have what you want. Was I really such a burden to you that you would abandon me in the forest to die?"

"No!" Bluestar pleaded. "I loved you very much."

Fireheart just shook his head. His energy spent, the ginger tom no longer felt angry, just tired and sad. Without another word, he turned around and started walking back towards the camp. Just before passing out of earshot, he turned around to face Bluestar one last time.

"Obviously it wasn't enough," he meowed quietly.

* * *

** At this point, you're probably all wondering if I'm just trying to see how badly I can hurt all of you. Well, the answer is...yes. Sort of, at least. **

**Hey, I _did _warn you guys that there was going to be drama.**

**I know some of you are wondering why Fireheart was so quick to believe Thistleclaw, and the short answer to that is...well, Thistleclaw's extremely good at manipulating others. Fireheart also respects StarClan, but he has no knowledge of the Dark Forest, nor of the history between Bluestar and Thistleclaw. And it doesn't hurt that the explanation Thistleclaw provided makes sense, at least from Fireheart's perspective. With the combination of Fireheart's ignorance, his devotion to StarClan, and the fact that Thistleclaw's explanation seemed reasonable in his eyes, it was only too easy to trick Fireheart into believing that Bluestar abandoned him. **

**Poor Bluestar. **

**Thanks for reading! **

**-TheShadowedWarrior**


	13. Broken

Blue eyes watched sadly as a flame-pelted tom disappeared from view, out through the gorse tunnel with Cinderpaw. She could feel the sympathetic and confused glances of her Clanmates, but they meant nothing to her. Everything she'd been fearing for moons, the biggest reason why she'd restrained from telling Fireheart the truth, had come true.

Her son hated her.

She still wondered how he had found out. Granted, she hadn't exactly been subtle, but it wasn't as though he'd given any indication that he suspected something was amiss before. Part of her wondered if Whitestorm had told him, but she immediately dismissed the thought. Her sister's son was an honorable cat; he wouldn't betray her like that. Besides, even if Whitestorm had told Fireheart, that didn't explain how he found out about Mistyfoot, Stonefur, and Mosskit as well.

Bluestar frowned. How _had _Fireheart found out about her decision to give up her kits to RiverClan? Everyone else in the Clan believed they had been killed by a fox or a badger. As a matter of fact, no one even knew that they were half-Clan. She had gone to great lengths to guard her secret, no easy task with Thistleclaw breathing down her neck, convinced she was a traitor.

Without warning, her eyes began to water and a sob rose up in her throat. Bluestar swallowed hard, choking back her tears before padding off in the direction of her den. Before she could reach the entrance, however, she was stopped as Tigerclaw called out to her.

"Bluestar."

The ThunderClan leader stopped in her tracks but didn't turn around. She closed her eyes. "Yes, Tigerclaw?"

Fortunately for her, if Tigerclaw heard the quaver in her voice, he gave no indication. "I want to assess the apprentices to make sure they've progressed as far as they need to have done. Fireheart's been telling me that Swiftpaw isn't as far along as he should be, and I want to test his claim."

"You do that," Bluestar replied quietly, barely suppressing a flinch at the mention of her youngest kit's name.

Without another word, she pushed her way into her den and curled up inside her nest. She lay down with her back to the entrance, hoping to discourage anyone who tried to visit from speaking to her. It occurred to Bluestar that she was pulling off this trick quite a lot these days. Her Clan was probably wondering why their leader kept disappearing on them.

_Let them wonder, _she thought bitterly. _It's not as if any of this was worth it. _

She had given up three of her kits to save ThunderClan from Thistleclaw, and now one of them was dead while the other two loved another queen as their mother. The only kit who actually knew the truth about his parentage hated her. Her Clanmates still supported her, but what did that matter when the one she cared about more than anything in the world wanted nothing to do with her?

Maybe she should have let Thistleclaw take over ThunderClan after all. He might have destroyed them all, but at least she would have been able to die alongside her children. They would have been safe in StarClan too, surrounded by other deceased loved ones and without the threats of war, famine, or floods.

The part that hurt the most about Fireheart's newfound hatred was that Bluestar could still remember him, as a tiny kit, gazing up at her with green eyes filled with all the love and adoration every kit felt for his mother. She still remembered the feeling of his tiny body pressed up against hers, his flank rising and falling steadily as he took a late morning nap.

Of course, Bluestar hadn't been foolish enough to think that things would go back to the way they were when Fireheart was still a tiny kit. He would always be her little one, but she knew that he had grown up. She hadn't been deluding herself into thinking that he was going to beg to sleep in her den or anything of the sort. However, now it looked as though she would be lucky if he ever glanced her way again.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Bluestar turned her head slightly and gazed off at the far corner of her den. As she stared into the darkened area while not quite seeing anything, a picture began to form in her mind.

_"Bluestar?" _

_A paw prodded at her side. Yawning, Bluestar opened her eyes and glanced over to see Firekit staring up at her, his green eyes wide. In an instant, Bluestar sat up and began licking her kit's fur gently, feeling him snuggle up beneath her chest fur as she did so. _

_"Are you alright, darling?" she asked gently. _

_"I'm okay," Firekit meowed quietly. "Bluestar, is it true that warriors die to protect their Clan?" _

_Bluestar was caught off guard by the question. "Why do you ask?" _

_"Tigerclaw was telling me about the warrior code, and he said that when I become a warrior, I'm supposed to defend ThunderClan at all cost, even if it kills me," Firekit answered. He looked frightened. "But I don't want to die. Does that mean I can't be a warrior?" _

_"Of course it doesn't," Bluestar meowed firmly, silently cursing Tigerclaw for upsetting her kit. "We're all a little afraid of dying, Firekit. It doesn't make you any less of a warrior. As long as you serve your Clan with everything you've got, that's all anyone can ask of you." _

_Firekit nodded, then asked hesitantly, "If–if I die, will you come with me? I don't want to go to StarClan all by myself." _

_At the plea, Bluestar felt her heart shatter. Her son looked so hopeful, so desperate, and all she wanted to do was reassure him that she would follow him no matter where he went. But she knew she couldn't. If the unthinkable happened and she lost him as well, she knew she wouldn't be able to join him–at least not until it was her time to do so. As much as it pained her to admit it, living in the wild, it was more likely than not that would end up being the case. _

_"I can't guarantee that I'll be able to come to StarClan with you," she meowed finally. "Chances are, when the time comes, we'll have to go our separate ways for a little while. It's up to StarClan to decide when it's our time to join them. But even if we're separated in life and death, even if we have the entire world between us, even if you can't see or hear me, I'll always be with you." _

_Firekit gazed up at her imploringly. "You promise?" _

_"I promise," Bluestar replied solemnly. _

_Firekit seemed satisfied and snuggled closer to her. "I love you, Mama." _

_"I love you too, Firekit." _

Bluestar shut her eyes again as the memory faded away. So much for her promise. She hadn't been with Firekit; she had foolishly believed he was dead and turned her back on him. How could she have been so blind? There hadn't been a body, nor any sign of blood, but she had immediately assumed the worst. She had done the unforgivable; she had given up on her son.

What had been going through Firekit's mind when he was taken into Twolegplace? Had he been thinking of her promise then? The forest was easily visible from the edge of Twolegplace. Bluestar knew that he had forgotten her at some point, but before that, how often had he sat on that fence, hoping that his mother would show up and take him back home? How many hours did he spend sitting there, peering out into the trees, only to go to bed heartbroken when she failed to come yet again?

_I'll always be with you..._

The last time she had uttered those words to him, he had looked at her with an expression of utmost love and relief. Now, if she were to repeat those same words, he would most likely either sneer at her or turn away in disgust. She could almost hear him now.

"Of course," Fireheart would snarl. "Just like you were there with me when I was stuck in Twolegplace and you were enjoying life as Clan leader, right?"

A sob rose up inside Bluestar's throat again, causing her to swallow hard as a lump began to form. Tears filled her eyes, instantly spilling over onto her face as she dropped her head onto her paws. This time, she didn't even bother to try to stop them.

Sometime later, she was able to calm down and padded out of her den. The sun had already set, and most of the Clan had gone to bed. Almost subconsciously, Bluestar allowed her gaze to drift upwards towards Silverpelt. Were her warrior ancestors taunting her? Even though her heart was shattered into a million pieces, even though everything was empty, even though she had never felt worse, she wondered why the stars were still shining as brightly as ever.


	14. A Lie That Hurts All

Fireheart sat outside the entrance to the nursery with Sandstorm, watching as their four kits rolled about the camp in one of their play-fights. They had brought the kits outside to play in order to give Goldenflower and her own newborn children some peace and quiet. The golden-furred queen had given birth a few sunrises ago to two healthy kits, one a dark tabby like his father and the other a pretty tortoiseshell. Their names were Bramblekit and Tawnykit.

"You know, I saw Silverstream at the last Gathering," Sandstorm remarked, watching as Squirrelkit leaped joyfully on top of Redkit. "She was pretty far along then. I think her kits will probably be due any day now."

"Interesting," Fireheart meowed flatly. At the moment, he wasn't particularly interested in hearing any life updates about queens in other Clans, especially not any that were involved in his ex-best friend's illicit relationship.

Sandstorm frowned at him. "Are you okay?" the pale ginger molly asked. "You seem a little...off...today."

"I'm fine," Fireheart replied quietly. No sense in bothering his mate, he decided, with the story of how Bluestar had abandoned him as a kit and then lied to his face for moons, letting him believe he had been born a kittypet. He might have been angry with Bluestar, but he wasn't spiteful enough to break everyone's trust in her. Fireheart searched his mind for a believable excuse. "I guess I'm just feeling a little stressed out is all. Especially, you know, with what happened with Longtail and Swiftpaw..."

Sandstorm nodded, knowing exactly what he was talking about. A few days ago, Tigerclaw had assessed all of the apprentices to make sure they had made adequate progress in their training. Fireheart suspected that the real reason for the assessment was that the deputy wanted to prove that he had been lying when he said that Swiftpaw was almost embarrassingly far behind. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to do so, and Tigerclaw had lectured Longtail in front of the entire Clan for not taking his duties as a mentor seriously. Longtail had thrown a tantrum worthy of a kit after they've been told to go to bed, accusing Fireheart of plotting with Tigerclaw behind his back to defame him. The fact that Fireheart and Tigerclaw weren't on remotely friendly terms didn't seem to cross his mind.

But no one challenged Tigerclaw, so Longtail was forced to start giving Swiftpaw real criticisms instead of praising his every action. Needless to say, the change had been hard on Swiftpaw, who often went out of his way to glare at Fireheart from across the camp as though it were all his fault. He was technically correct, but that didn't make it any less irritating.

"By the way, do you know anything about what's going on with Bluestar?" Sandstorm asked suddenly. "She came to visit the nursery a short while before you did, and she seemed a bit sad about something."

Fireheart forced his fur not to bristle at the mention of his mother. "Oh, did she?" he replied, trying to sound as though it were a throwaway response of little importance.

"She did," the ginger queen confirmed. "I asked her if everything was alright, but she just told me that she was fine and she needed to deal with it on her own."

"I guess we'll just have to let her deal with it, then," Fireheart meowed coolly. He stood up, shaking some dust off his leg. "Anyway, I have to go. I'm supposed to be on a hunting patrol. I'll see you later, Sandstorm."

"Okay," Sandstorm meowed, looking a little puzzled. "Stay safe."

Fireheart nodded to her before turning and heading off in the direction of the gorse tunnel. Just before he reached it, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Bluestar staring at him from just outside her den. Even with his limited view, it was easy to see the sorrow and anguish in her eyes. He hesitated, feeling a small pang of pity, then brushed it aside and continued on his way.

_Don't go feeling sorry for her, _he lectured himself. _She brought this on herself. It was her decision to abandon you and lie about it. She gets to live with the consequences now. _

_But are you really going to make a judgment like that based on the word of one cat? _

Fireheart let out a groan of frustration. The other voice in his head, the one pleading with him to give Bluestar another chance, was still chattering away freely and the flame-colored warrior didn't know how to make it stop. He supposed the voice had a point, but it wasn't as though he were turning on Bluestar based on the word of just any cat. It was a _StarClan warrior _who told him the truth. If anyone in the world knew what they were talking about, surely it would be them.

Yet at the same time, Fireheart couldn't help remembering Bluestar breaking down when he woke up after being unconscious for three days, sobbing with relief when she knew that he was going to survive. He remembered all the times she had gone out of her way to stay close to him, even appointing herself as his mentor despite the fact that she was also busy with her leader duties and there were multiple eligible warriors without apprentices. She had abandoned him, but she had still cared.

He shook his head. Of course, she had cared. The problem wasn't whether or not she cared about him, it was the fact that she didn't care _enough_. For all her claims that she still loved him, she clearly didn't love him enough to be honest with him. She had allowed him to go through constant, everyday bullying all so she could protect herself.

_I hate her._

_No, I don't._

Fireheart sighed, taking a seat underneath the shade of a large oak tree. He didn't hate Bluestar. Well, he did, but that was related to the fact that she had lied to him more than anything. But to truly _hate _her, to wish pain and suffering upon her, that was something he couldn't bring himself to do.

Was he angry? Obviously.

But he just couldn't make himself hate her. He had tried, he had told himself that he hated Bluestar, but the facts remained the same. For whatever reason, he just didn't hate her.

Fireheart didn't know what to think about that.

Part of him wanted to be angry with her for manipulating him. A voice that sounded suspiciously like Thistleclaw's whispered in his ear, telling him that this had clearly been a part of some sort of master plan created by Bluestar in order to trick Fireheart into feeling sorry for her. The other voice scoffed, saying that Bluestar hadn't been manipulating him and that she truly cared for him. The fact that her actions appeared manipulative now was simply a combination of his anger towards her and an unfortunate coincidence.

Both claims sounded so ridiculous, yet so plausible at the same time that Fireheart didn't know which one to listen to. He didn't take pleasure in hurting Bluestar–he wasn't that type of cat–but at the same time, he didn't want to make up with her either, if only to preserve his pride. Besides, if she wanted his forgiveness, she was going to have to come up with the perfect explanation.

A rabbit scampered across his path, darting behind some shrubbery. For once, Fireheart found that he wasn't interested in chasing after it. He doubted that he would have caught it even if he had. His mind was too weighed down by his troubles with Bluestar.

_I guess it's lucky that I'm on my own. Longtail and Darkstripe would never let me hear the end of it if they found out I let a rabbit escape, _the ginger tom thought bitterly.

Fortunately, Fireheart managed to catch two squirrels and two mice before returning back to the camp, so it wasn't as though losing the rabbit meant anything. He deposited his load onto the fresh-kill pile, picking up one of the squirrels to share with Sandstorm. As he sat down beside his mate, once again, he could see Bluestar staring at him with the same expression of grief and pain.

_Forget about her, _he told himself firmly. _You don't need to feel sorry for her, remember? This is her own fault. _

Fireheart flicked his ears and took a bite out of the squirrel. It was decided, then. He would continue to afford Bluestar the same respect every warrior owed their Clan leader–despite his anger towards her, that hadn't changed–but never again would he view her with the affection an apprentice felt for their mentor, and certainly not with the love a kit felt for his mother. She had made it clear that she didn't want them to be anything more than Clanmates, and he was perfectly happy to give her what she wanted.

It would have made everything much simpler, he reflected bitterly, if he could only make himself forget how much she had once meant to him.


	15. Unhappy Days

Whitestorm knew there was something wrong between Fireheart and Bluestar, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what it was.

Well, that wasn't entirely accurate. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Fireheart must have found out the truth about Bluestar being his mother and was angry with her over it. What he didn't understand, however, was _why_ the younger warrior was so upset over this. After all, he must have known that Bluestar still loved and treasured him. What reason would he have for being angry with her over finding out that she was his mother?

Of course, Bluestar hadn't taken her son's rejection well–and that was putting it lightly. It had been nearly half a moon now, and she had lost weight, lost her appetite, and worst of all lost her desire to lead her Clan. She still performed her duties, of course, but it was obvious to anyone who bothered to look that her heart wasn't in it. The blue-gray molly was simply going through the motions; being the leader of ThunderClan meant nothing to her anymore.

Every time he saw the look of sadness in Bluestar's eyes, Whitestorm felt like clawing Fireheart's fur off. How dare he hurt his own mother in this way? He would have understood if Fireheart was simply upset over being lied to, but he still needed to give her a chance to explain. Yet he refused to do even that, spending nearly all his time with Sandstorm or with his friends and making up impromptu patrols in order to avoid crossing paths with Bluestar.

_Grow up, already, _he wanted to yowl. _You're being selfish. __You aren't the only one who's been hurt, so stop acting like a kit and talk things over with her. _

Unfortunately, the newfound bitterness between Fireheart and Bluestar wasn't the only thing weighing on Whitestorm's mind. For the past half a moon, Tigerclaw had reported chasing rogues off of their territory nearly every day. Whitestorm wasn't sure whether to be annoyed that these rogues apparently refused to give up, or suspicious because they _still _hadn't learned their lesson.

Oddly enough, it just so happened that these rogues only ever showed up when Tigerclaw went out alone. Whenever he went out on a patrol with another Clanmate, even if they went towards the same area he'd apparently chased the rogues away from, they never came across any unwelcome visitors. It was definitely strange, but Whitestorm tried not to make too much of it. Perhaps it was simply a coincidence that Tigerclaw only ever saw the rogues when he was alone. Granted, that would have been a highly unlikely coincidence, but he had heard of far stranger things happening.

"Whitestorm?"

_Speak of the devil. _Whitestorm turned around to face Fireheart, barely holding down his resentment. "What, Fireheart? What do you want?"

He hadn't meant for his tone to sound so irritable–no matter how angry he was with anyone, he still prided himself on being able to keep a calm and level head–but it was clear that Fireheart had picked up on his annoyance. The ginger tom stiffened for a moment, looking deeply offended, then growled softly and turned away.

"Forget it, then. I can see when I'm being a bother," he snarled, storming off towards the fresh-kill pile.

"No, Fireheart, wait," Whitestorm called out. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped. Tell me what's on your mind."

"What's the point? You clearly have no interest in hearing anything I have to say," Fireheart spat, turning around to glare at him with green eyes full of anger and bitterness. "But if you must know–not that it's any of _your _business–I happened to scent some rogues near Twolegplace. Fairly fresh scent. There. You know what I needed to say. Now stop bothering me and go back to whatever you were brooding over. I've got enough on my mind without you giving me a bigger headache than I already have."

Whitestorm let out a sigh, watching as Fireheart snatched up a vole and stalked off in the direction of the nursery. He knew he should have reprimanded the younger warrior for speaking so disrespectfully to a senior warrior, but he knew it wouldn't solve anything. When Fireheart was angry, it was best to just let him sulk alone for a while. Reprimanding him for his behavior, or worse, trying to patch things up, would only make him even more furious. Whitestorm almost had to laugh at how similar he was to Bluestar in that regard; she never liked it when other cats bothered her when she was upset either.

_Maybe that's all he needs, _the great white warrior mused. _Maybe if we just give him a little time, he'll come around and realize that he needs to give Bluestar another chance. After all, he can't stay mad forever, right? _

Suddenly, Whitestorm remembered the message Fireheart had given him. _Oh! That's right, he mentioned something about rogues being near the Twolegplace. I'd better go check and see that nothing's happened. _

The white warrior turned and walked out of the camp, nearly bumping into Bluestar as she was padding through the gorse tunnel. Her head and tail were lowered and in her jaws, she clutched a single measly sparrow. She looked up at him and purred, but her blue eyes remained as sorrowful as ever.

"No luck today?" Whitestorm asked sympathetically.

Bluestar flicked her tail. "No, actually. The prey's running just fine out there. I just..."

She shook her head and turned away, but not before Whitestorm saw the tears beginning to glisten in her eyes. He brushed his muzzle comfortingly against her cheek, silently cursing Fireheart. The flame-pelted warrior had thistles for brains if he couldn't see how much he was hurting his mother.

"Don't worry," he murmured gently. "Want to come with me? I've been hearing reports of rogues near Twolegplace and I wanted to check them out."

He was careful to avoid mentioning the fact that Fireheart was the one who gave him the report. Fortunately, Bluestar seemed to cheer up slightly at the thought of going on a quick border patrol with her nephew and agreed instantly. It had been a long time since the two of them had gotten to do anything together, just the two of them. After Snowfur's death, Bluestar had taken on the role of his mother figure in his life. As a result, when Whitestorm was a kit, the two of them spent nearly all of their time together. Now that he was a senior warrior, he had his own responsibilities to take care of, but that didn't mean he didn't miss hanging out with his foster mother.

"I remember the last walk we took," Bluestar meowed softly. From the expression on her face, it was easy to see that she was talking about Fireheart, not Whitestorm. "I was going to take him to Sunningrocks that day. My precious little warrior...he was so excited too. He thought the forest was the most incredible thing he'd ever seen–I suppose it was, in his eyes."

Whitestorm didn't reply. He simply nodded silently and listened as his aunt lost herself in memories. Memories of a happier time, when her son still loved and remembered her.

"He tried to jump over a bush and got himself stuck instead," Bluestar continued with a small laugh. "I had to pull him out and wash all the twigs and leaves out of his fur. Poor dear, he wasn't too happy about that. I think bathtimes were the only times he ever tried to run away from me."

The downcast expression returned to her eyes as she went on, "But now...now I think I'll be lucky if he ever _stops _trying to run away from me. Ever since I last spoke to him, I've barely seen him around, even back at the camp. I have so much I need to say to him, but I doubt I'll ever get the chance."

Whitestorm chose not to answer, giving Bluestar's ears a comforting lick instead. The blue-furred molly blinked gratefully at him, though her eyes were still filled with sadness. He felt his heart twist with pity; how much longer would Bluestar have to suffer before Fireheart finally pulled himself together?

"Don't worry about it," he meowed, trying to sound as encouraging as possible. "Just give him a little more time. He'll come around eventually. You'll see."

"I know," Bluestar agreed quietly. "You're right. I guess I'll just have to try to put all of this aside for now."

"That's the spirit," Whitestorm meowed gently. "Things _will_ get better, Bluestar, I promise you that."

The two warriors continued on their way, engaging in small talk over Clan politics and shared family stories, though they were careful to leave out any mention of Fireheart's name. Whitestorm was pleased to see that Bluestar was at least making an attempt to be a little more cheerful. Not that he thought she should be cheerful even when her son refused to speak to her, of course. However, whoever had said that pretending to be happy could sometimes be as good as the real thing certainly knew what they were talking about. By the time they were headed back home, it might have been Whitestorm's imagination, but he thought that Bluestar's laughter sounded a little less forced than before.

When they arrived back at the camp, Whitestorm saw Fireheart sitting with Ravenflight and Dustpelt. The two littermates nodded in greeting when they noticed him, but if Fireheart had seen him as well, he gave no indication.

Whitestorm shook his head and headed off to speak to Willowpelt. There were many qualities Fireheart had inherited from Bluestar that he admired greatly, but his inability to let go of a grudge was not one of them.

* * *

**Yikes, Whitestorm's pissed at Fireheart...and rightly so. Fireheart, stop being an asshole. Give your mother a hug. And a cookie. Everyone needs cookies. **

**Some of you are probably wondering why Bluestar doesn't just force Fireheart to hear her out, and the answer to that is...she doesn't want to. She's smart enough to know that forcing him to listen to her won't help her get her point across, and in fact, will probably only make him hate her more. The only way Bluestar will ever be able to explain things to Fireheart is if he comes to her first. **

**Unfortunately, Fireheart's stuck in a mindset where he wants to know why Bluestar abandoned and lied to him (from his perspective), yet also doesn't want anything to do with her. He's not too good at deciding which side to listen to, as you can tell. **

**Thanks for reading, **

**-TheShadowedWarrior**


	16. A Strange Encounter

Fireheart strode out of the warriors' den as the sun was beginning to peer above the horizon. As it was so early in the morning, most of the camp was still asleep. The only exceptions were Mousefur, Runningwind, and Brackenpaw, whom Fireheart assumed had been assigned to the dawn patrol. He waved his tail in greeting to the three cats, then stiffened as Bluestar emerged from her den. Trying to avoid a confrontation, the flame-colored warrior turned and started to head for the gorse tunnel.

"Fireheart."

Suppressing a sigh of annoyance, Fireheart turned around to face Tigerclaw as the deputy pushed his way out of the warriors' den. "Yes, Tigerclaw?"

The dark tabby's eyes were narrowed. "Where are you off to? I don't recall assigning you to the dawn patrol."

"I thought I'd go out and hunt for a bit," Fireheart answered. "Prey has been good lately, and I wanted to get an early start."

"Well, don't go out today. The apprentices will be awake soon, and I want you to take Cinderpaw on a hunting assessment," Tigerclaw meowed.

Fireheart blinked in surprise. "Already?" he asked. "It hasn't been that long since her last one, has it?"

"That is true, but with Swiftpaw being as far behind as he is, I want to keep track of the apprentices' progress more frequently. That means more assessments," Tigerclaw meowed, waving his tail dismissively. "Go take a piece of fresh-kill and wait for your apprentice to wake up."

Deciding that there was no point in arguing, Fireheart nodded respectfully and turned to head over to the fresh-kill pile. He stopped in his tracks, however, when he noticed that Bluestar was at the pile, a thrush clutched in her jaws. The ginger tom stiffened, cursing StarClan for his endlessly unfortunate luck. It was too late to suddenly change direction without drawing attention to the fact that he was trying to avoid Bluestar.

_What in StarClan's name is wrong with you? Are you a kit? _Fireheart scolded himself. _You're only drawing more attention to yourself by standing around like an idiot. Just grow a spine and take a piece of prey from the fresh-kill pile. You don't have to speak to her. _

Letting out a sigh, Fireheart padded over to the fresh-kill pile and snatched up a squirrel. Bluestar was still standing a few tail-lengths away, but he refused to look at her, choosing instead to turn away sharply and stalk over to the edge of the camp. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Mousefur and Runningwind giving him curious glances, but he pretended not to notice. He took a small bite out of his squirrel and chewed slowly. Perhaps it had something to do with the near run-in with Bluestar, but somehow, it didn't taste nearly as good as usual.

Soon, Fireheart noticed Cinderpaw emerging from the apprentices' den. Abandoning his half-finished squirrel, he stood up and started to walk across the camp to her. Before he could reach her, however, he was stopped by an extremely unwelcome voice.

"Fireheart?" Bluestar meowed softly.

"Yes, Bluestar?" Fireheart replied without looking at his so-called mother. _Go away! Just go away! _

"I know you're not interested in talking to me right now," Bluestar meowed, keeping her voice low in order to avoid being overheard. "And I'm not going to try to force you to hear me out. The choice will always be yours. But if you ever decide that you do want an explanation, you're always free to come to me and ask."

Fireheart paused for a moment. It was a fair suggestion, he had to admit. At least this way, he could be assured that Bluestar wouldn't try to force him to listen to whatever lie she decided to spin. That was definitely one weight lifted off his shoulders.

"I'll keep that in mind," he meowed finally.

With that, he continued on his way over to Cinderpaw, who was finishing the last bite of a wood mouse. The dark gray molly looked up at him, her blue eyes shining with excitement.

"Are we going out today?" she asked eagerly.

"Of course," Fireheart purred, the conversation with Bluestar being pushed out of his mind at the sight of his apprentice's enthusiasm. "Tigerclaw asked me to assess your hunting skills today, so we should get going if we're going to give you as much time as possible."

"Okay, then," Cinderpaw agreed, bounding off in the direction of the gorse tunnel. Fireheart followed behind her more slowly, chuckling at the young molly's excitement.

He wasn't entirely sure what made him do it, but just before he passed through the camp entrance, he glanced over his shoulder to see if Bluestar was still there. But the ThunderClan leader was gone, and Fireheart was surprised to feel a slight pang of disappointment.

* * *

By the time Cinderpaw was about halfway through the route Fireheart had assigned her, he had managed to push his issues with Bluestar to the back of his mind. Despite still being behind her littermates, Cinderpaw had made significant progress and was able to hunt properly without any noticeable trouble. She had already managed to catch three mice, a pigeon, and a vole, and Fireheart felt a glimmer of pride for his apprentice. Even though he knew they still had a ways to go before the time came, for a moment, he allowed himself to imagine how it would feel watching Bluestar give Cinderpaw her warrior name.

They were walking past the Twolegplace border now. A few fox-lengths away, Fireheart could see a pale silver molly sitting on the fence. As he watched, a black tom with a white muzzle, paws, and tail-tip leaped onto the fence beside her. He was surprised to notice that, although both cats were well-groomed, neither of them were wearing collars.

_Did they remove their collars as I did? _Fireheart wondered. _I don't blame them if they did. _

"Fireheart! Fireheart!" Cinderpaw came bursting towards him, her eyes wide. "Fireheart, come quickly! It's an emergency!"

"Cinderpaw!" Fireheart exclaimed, startled. "Slow down. Tell me what's wrong."

The dark gray apprentice took a deep breath. "I saw Tigerclaw talking with a bunch of strange cats," she explained. "I–I think they were Brokentail's old rogues again, but they don't smell of ShadowClan anymore and I left before I could get a good look."

"And they were with Tigerclaw," Fireheart mused. That was what seemed the most suspicious. He had suspected that Tigerclaw hadn't really been driving rogues out of their territory nearly every day, and here was the final proof. However, that didn't explain why he was talking to them.

"What should we do?" Cinderpaw asked anxiously.

"We need to go back and report this to Bluestar," Fireheart decided. He wasn't looking forward to speaking to his mother again, but the needs of the Clan had to be put first. "She has to know what's going on."

Cinderpaw nodded in agreement, then paused. "Are we going to continue my assessment another time?" she asked.

"No need," Fireheart replied briefly. "I've seen all I need to see from you. You've passed. Now hurry, we need to get back to the camp."

Together, the two cats started to head back in the direction of the ThunderClan camp. They hadn't gotten very far, however, when a yowling sounded from somewhere in the distance. Fireheart's blood ran cold at the sound as he recognized Tigerclaw's voice. A quick glance at Cinderpaw told him that she had heard the deputy's cry as well.

"Do you think he's being attacked?" she asked anxiously.

"That didn't sound as though he was in pain," Fireheart meowed slowly. "That sounded more like a battle call."

Suddenly, Cinderpaw's ears pricked. "Do you hear that?" she asked in a hushed voice.

Fireheart strained his ears, trying to figure out what Cinderpaw had heard. A few heartbeats later, he managed to pick up on it as well–the sound of several sets of paws pounding the forest floor, growing louder as each moment passed. Based on the sound they were making, it was clear that the cats the paws belonged to were running, which made it clear that it wasn't a patrol or a benign visitor from another Clan.

"Run back to camp!" he hissed. "We need to get there before anything happens. If those cats are going where I think they're going, the camp needs as much protection as possible."

Cinderpaw nodded and took off, moving quickly despite her injured leg. Fireheart followed on her tail, careful not to overtake her. He didn't know who the strange cats running through the forest were, but after hearing of Cinderpaw's discovery concerning Tigerclaw and the rogues, he wasn't about to take any chances.

* * *

**The rogues are back again! And Tigerclaw's with them...of course. Yeah, he's still an asshole. Just a slightly less obvious asshole than in canon. **

**Responses to a few reviews: **

**draconic skysong: Yep, Thistleclaw's a douchebag. I was actually going to have Spottedleaf confront Thistleclaw once everything is sorted out between Fireheart and Bluestar, but after receiving your review, I think I might have Snowfur do it instead. Or maybe they can both be there. I'll have to decide later. **

**WolflexZ: He doesn't, but as another reviewer said, Thistleclaw's extremely good at manipulating others. **

**FreeEcho: Thank you! I know you were looking forward to Fireheart finally finding out the truth, and I'm sorry things ended up this way. But rest assured that everything will be resolved eventually. **

**Firecat21870: The simple answer is that Thistleclaw is still jealous of Bluestar. Think about it. In Bluestar's Prophecy, he had a mate (Snowfur), a son, and for a while was one of the frontrunners to replace Tawnyspots as Clan deputy. Now, his mate is dead, his son doesn't even like him, and he died without ever becoming the deputy. At the beginning of the series, Bluestar had the leadership Thistleclaw always desired, a mate who loved her, and a kit who adored her and whom she could watch grow up. To put it simply, the cat he hates more than anything in the world got everything he was denied, and he just hasn't been able to let go of it. Obviously, he can't steal her leadership from her and Thrushpelt is dead, so turning Fireheart against her is his best option. **

**Pkk: Yep...we'll have to see how long it takes Fireheart to get his act together. Well...you'll have to see, considering I know exactly when it's going to happen. :) **

**Thanks for reading! **

**-TheShadowedWarrior**


	17. Betrayal and Exile

The camp had already erupted into a full-blown battle by the time Fireheart and Cinderpaw made it back. Dappletail, one of the Clan's elders, was locked in a fierce tussle with a rogue that Fireheart recognized as a former ShadowClan warrior named Russetfur. Mousefur and Runningwind were battling side by side against Blackfoot, and Brackenpaw was clawing at a tortoiseshell more than twice his size.

Fireheart exchanged a glance with Cinderpaw before both cats threw themselves into the fray. Cinderpaw raced over to help her brother, while Fireheart ran over to Dappletail. He pulled Russetfur off of her, giving the rogue a vicious bite to the shoulder while slashing his claws over her face. Russetfur yowled in pain and fury, wrenching herself free and taking off through the gorse tunnel.

"Thank you, Fireheart," Dappletail gasped out. She was bleeding profusely from a wound in her left foreleg.

"Don't thank me yet," Fireheart answered, turning and bounding back into the thick of the fighting.

He glanced around the camp wildly, searching for any sign of Tigerclaw. If there had ever been any hope that the deputy wasn't involved with the rogues, it was long gone now. The ShadowClan rogues couldn't possibly have overtaken him and Cinderpaw unless they knew of a shortcut–and who better to show them one than Tigerclaw himself, Bluestar's trusted deputy and a cat who knew every tree, every scent marker better than his own name?

But as Fireheart's eyes roamed around the camp, he couldn't see any sign of the dark tabby anywhere. As a matter of fact, he couldn't see any sign of most of the other warriors either.

_How long has he been planning this for? _

A rogue leaped at Fireheart, and the ginger tom was forced to dodge to the side to avoid a killing blow. As the gray tom turned on him, hissing and spitting with battle rage, Fireheart saw his chance. He leaped over the former ShadowClan cat, turning around at the last second so that he landed on the rogue's back. Before he had any time to react, Fireheart grasped his head between his paws while using his hind paws to kick out his legs from underneath him. The rogue collapsed onto the ground, and Fireheart took the opportunity to land several rapid-fire blows to his head. After a while, he let the rogue go, watching as he dragged himself out through the camp exit.

Suddenly, a yowling sounded as more cats burst into the camp. Fireheart tensed, expecting to see more of ShadowClan's followers, then relaxed as he realized that they were just ThunderClan patrols returning from their assigned duties. He didn't think he had ever been so happy to see Longtail and Darkstripe in his entire life, and he was certain he would never feel that way again.

"Fireheart!" Ravenflight called out, bursting into the camp alongside Dustpelt. "What's going on?"

"Brokentail's old followers again," Fireheart meowed by way of explanation. _Speaking of which, where is he? _He glanced around the camp again, finally spotting the former ShadowClan leader battling Brightpaw and Mousefur. A chill ran down Fireheart's spine. Even without his sight, Brokentail was still a formidable opponent, and Mousefur and Brightpaw were being given all they could handle.

Dustpelt's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Have you seen Bluestar or Tigerclaw anywhere?"

"No, I haven't seen either of them," Fireheart answered, leaving out the fact that Tigerclaw had been the one to lead the rogues into the camp in the first place. "Was Bluestar not with you?"

The brown tabby shook his head. "No, she wasn't on any patrols today. I think Whitestorm said something about her taking a day of rest or something."

"We can't worry about that now," Ravenflight insisted. "I'm sure Bluestar knows what's going on and will be here to help us shortly. Let's focus on driving out the rogues first."

"You don't need to tell me twice," Fireheart meowed, turning and hurling himself at a silver tabby.

But as he slashed and clawed at his opponent with as much strength as he could muster, the flame-pelted tom couldn't suppress a twinge of worry. It could have been a coincidence that Bluestar and Tigerclaw both happened to be missing, but his instinct told him it wasn't. Everything had simply fallen into place too conveniently for it to be plain luck.

An image flashed in Fireheart's mind of a cold day in leaf-bare. Once again, he saw Dustpelt–Dustpaw then–announcing that Tigerclaw had scented ShadowClan on their territory and needed Bluestar to join him. He remembered turning the apprentice away, telling him that Bluestar was ill and needed to rest. And as always, the part he remembered the most vividly was a cry of pain and the sight of the broken body of a dark gray molly.

_That wasn't an accident either, _Fireheart realized with a sickening jolt in his stomach. _He was planning to lure Bluestar onto the Thunderpath back then too. Tigerclaw's been plotting to kill Bluestar for moons and no one realized it. _

Suddenly, everything made sense. Tigerclaw's insistence that Bluestar _had _to be the one to meet him by the ShadowClan border, killing Crookedstar (or at least taking one of his lives) in the battle against ShadowClan and RiverClan, even his attempt to force Fireheart to cross the flooded stream, everything was suddenly falling into place now. The Clan was sheltering a cold-blooded murderer.

Without thinking, Fireheart turned and raced off in the direction of Bluestar's den. He burst through the curtain of lichen, then immediately stumbled in shock upon seeing the sight that greeted him. Bluestar and Whitestorm were holding Tigerclaw down in the middle of the den, their pelts dripping with blood. The deputy was struggling to free himself, snarling curses at Bluestar and Whitestorm, but Fireheart noticed that his thrashes were growing weaker with each passing heartbeat. He didn't have to search long to find the reason. A steady stream of blood was flowing out of a gash in Tigerclaw's stomach, staining the floor of the den.

"Whitestorm? What–what happened in here?" Fireheart asked once he had recovered his senses.

"Tigerclaw tried to kill Bluestar," the great white warrior meowed grimly. "I came in here to warn her about the rogues and found him attacking her. How is everything out there?"

"We're managing," Fireheart answered shortly. "I came in here to see what was happening, but it looks as though you have everything under control, so if you'll excuse me..."

Without waiting for Whitestorm's response, he turned and raced out of Bluestar's den, back into the thick of the fighting. Several of the rogues had fled now, but still, others remained, including Brokentail and Blackfoot. As Fireheart watched, the former ShadowClan deputy pinned Swiftpaw down and prepared to give him a killing bite to the neck.

_Oh, no you don't! _Fireheart thought, shooting across the camp and knocking Blackfoot away from Swiftpaw. The apprentice staggered to his paws, panting with shock and exhaustion.

"Thanks, Fireheart," Swiftpaw meowed.

"Stay sharp, Swiftpaw!" Fireheart replied shortly, slashing his claws across Blackfoot's muzzle. The rogue tore himself away and fled through the gorse tunnel.

Claws raked down Fireheart's flank, sending blood splattering into the air. The ginger tom spun around to see a dark brown molly preparing herself for another attack, her teeth bared in a snarl. She reared back on her hind legs, preparing to flatten him, but Fireheart was faster. Before she could complete her attack, he lunged forward and grabbed at one of her hind legs, twisting it so that she collapsed back onto the ground. There was a sickening crunch followed by a screech of agony from the rogue; Fireheart's attack had broken her leg.

The dark brown molly screeched in fury and tried to turn on Fireheart, but the pain from her injury was too great. She collapsed onto the ground again, and Fireheart gave her one last bite to the shoulder before allowing her to limp across the camp towards the gorse tunnel, defeated.

Fireheart barely had time to react as another rogue, this one a gray tom with a black tail-tip, launched himself at him and forced him to the ground. He saw a flash of white as the tom prepared to bite down on his throat, just barely managing to shift his head away at the last second. As the rogue prepared to attempt the move again, Fireheart used his hind paws to slash open a gash in his stomach. The rogue howled in pain, turning and fleeing away from the battle, a trail of blood following behind him.

He glanced around the clearing to see if any of his Clanmates needed any assistance, only to realize that most of the rogues had fled now. Brokentail was the only one left, but he was being handled by Yellowfang and Fireheart didn't think she would need any assistance. Despite her age, the medicine cat was still a formidable fighter.

"Fireheart, did you see me?" Cinderpaw meowed excitedly, bounding up to him. Her pelt bleeding from several scratches, but she barely seemed to feel a thing. "I did it! I fought in a real battle today! And I didn't even have to hide in the medicine den like I did last time!"

"I did. You were wonderful today, Cinderpaw," Fireheart purred.

Cinderpaw purred and opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off as Bluestar and Whitestorm emerged from her den, an injured Tigerclaw between them. The ThunderClan leader's head was lowered, and she looked older and more defeated than Fireheart had ever seen her. Despite himself, he couldn't suppress a pang of sympathy for his former mentor.

"Fireheart?" Cinderpaw meowed from beside him, drawing his attention back to the dark gray apprentice. "What happened? What's going on?"

Fireheart just shook his head. "You'll find out soon," he murmured.

The two cats watched as Bluestar settled herself down in front of the Highrock, making no attempt to climb it. Fireheart wondered if she had sustained too many injuries to be able to make the jump. Her eyes surveyed the Clan, taking in the blood-soaked clearing and the stunned expressions of her warriors before finally settling on him. The pain and anguish she felt couldn't have been more obvious if she had yowled it to the sky, and Fireheart found he couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze.

Finally, after several long heartbeats, Bluestar spoke up. "Mousefur," she began quietly. "Have the rogues left?"

"Yes, Bluestar," Mousefur replied politely. "Brokentail managed to escape Yellowfang, but she gave him a few wounds to remember her by. I expect he'll be dead within a few sunrises without a medicine cat to heal him."

Bluestar nodded and lifted her head to face the rest of the Clan. "Now that we have that out of the way, it's time to discuss a more pressing matter," she rasped. "I'll keep it simple. Tigerclaw just attempted to murder me in my own den. If it weren't for Whitestorm, I would be dead."

Gasps of shock rose from the crowd. A few of the Clan, Fireheart noticed, looked skeptical and Darkstripe was sneering at Bluestar as though she were a kit trying to convince the Clan that the sky was purple. He narrowed his eyes at the tabby warrior. Although he didn't have any proof that Darkstripe knew what Tigerclaw had been up to, it certainly wouldn't surprise him if he had. After all, he had always been Tigerclaw's most loyal follower.

"Prove it," Darkstripe sneered. "Prove that Tigerclaw tried to kill you."

"Oh, no one will be able to do that," Whitestorm spoke up. "Not since Bluestar and I are the only ones who saw Tigerclaw attack her. But Darkstripe, I would remind you to keep silent. Unless you want to risk implicating yourself in Tigerclaw's schemes."

Darkstripe growled but wisely chose to remain silent. Instead, Longtail was the one to speak up next. He was looking, Fireheart noticed, not at Bluestar or Whitestorm, but at Tigerclaw, and the expression in his eyes was one of utter shock.

"Tigerclaw, why?" the pale tabby asked. "Why would you try to _kill _Bluestar?"

"It's simple," Tigerclaw growled, lifting his head defiantly. "ThunderClan is weak with her as our leader. She wastes her time favoring lesser cats while the strong ones are left to take care of the Clan's problems themselves. You all saw her take in a kittypet, and now she parades him around like he's her own son."

"Wait, so let me get this straight," Fireheart meowed, unable to stop himself. "You spent however many moons plotting to kill Bluestar, organized an invasion with Brokentail's old followers, and caused your Clanmates to get hurt...all because Bluestar likes me more than you?"

"I only did what needed to be done," Tigerclaw growled, glaring at the ginger tom. "How often has Bluestar become distracted during battles because you were injured? ThunderClan can't afford to have a leader who lets her emotions get in the way of protecting her Clan."

Fireheart opened his mouth to argue back, but Sandstorm beat him to it. The pale ginger queen stalked over to the former deputy, her teeth bared in a snarl. She stood over him, her muzzle just inches away from his face. For the first time that Fireheart could remember, Tigerclaw almost looked frightened.

"How _dare _you?" she hissed coldly. "How dare you blame Fireheart? It's not his fault that Bluestar favors him over you. You should start learning to take responsibility for your own actions."

"No, he's right," Darkstripe meowed, apparently forgetting Whitestorm's warning to remain silent. "If that kittypet hadn't joined the Clan, everything would be fine. We were doing well for ourselves before he came, and look what's happened since. Redtail and Lionheart were killed, Bluestar lost two lives, an apprentice was crippled, WindClan was driven out, Graystripe left to be with his RiverClan mate, and we've suffered _two _invasions from Brokentail's rogues within only a few moons."

"_Silence!_" Bluestar snarled, a bit of her old fire returning to her eyes. "I will not let you blame Fireheart for a bit of bad luck. Tigerclaw, I would ask if you had anything to say in your defense, but I think you summed everything up perfectly well. From this moment on, you are no longer a member of ThunderClan. If my warriors ever see you on our territory again, or anywhere _near _it for that matter, they have my permission to kill you."

Tigerclaw sneered at her. "I'd like to see any of them try," he meowed defiantly. He rose to his paws and staggered off towards the gorse tunnel, but paused just before disappearing through the exit. "If anyone would like to come with me, I welcome them to do so. Join me, and you'll all thrive, far more than you ever would under the leadership of a weak cat such as _Bluefur_."

Most of the Clan simply snarled at him in fury. To the surprise of no one, however, Darkstripe rose to his paws and padded off after Tigerclaw.

"If you exile him, you exile me," he snarled at Bluestar.

Bluestar flicked her tail. "Very well. Go with him."

The two disgraced warriors walked out of the camp, their tails stiff and their heads held high. Tigerclaw was noticeably unsteady on his paws–despite his bravado, his belly wound was clearly bothering him–but he gave off no sign of regret as he disappeared through the gorse tunnel, his most loyal follower at his side. Fireheart kept his eyes trained on them until, at long last, they disappeared from view.


	18. Deputy

Whitestorm entered Bluestar's den, placing a few herbs that Yellowfang had asked him to deliver in front of the ThunderClan leader. She blinked up at him tiredly and purred gratefully. Screwing up her face in disgust, she swallowed the herbs before sitting up in her nest, curling her tail over her paws.

"Whitestorm," she greeted him. "How is everyone?"

"They're exhausted, but Yellowfang didn't report any serious injuries," he meowed. "Thank StarClan for small miracles, I suppose."

Bluestar nodded, then asked hesitantly. "And...Fireheart...?"

"He's fine as well," Whitestorm reassured his aunt. "One of the rogues gave him a wound on his flank that's sure to scar, but other than that, he's perfectly okay. Mousefur says he fought well in the battle."

"Of course," Bluestar purred, and Whitestorm was relieved to see a flash of pride in her eyes. "He is my kit, after all."

Although her voice was filled with pride, there was hurt in there as well, and Whitestorm felt the familiar frustration towards Fireheart bubble up inside him. Any cat with eyes could see that Bluestar still loved Fireheart dearly. Even amidst his anger and cruelty towards her, he still meant the world to her. It was so painfully obvious; why couldn't _he _see it too?

"But enough of that," Bluestar continued, shaking her head, and Whitestorm guessed that she was trying to distract herself from thoughts of her son. "Now that Tigerclaw has gone, the Clan needs a new deputy. How would you feel about taking his place?"

For a moment, Whitestorm felt a small spark of excitement. Being named Clan deputy was a great honor, the biggest vote of confidence a Clan leader could bestow upon a warrior. There were cats who dedicated their entire lives towards earning that one distinction–Whitestorm's father, Thistleclaw, being among them.

Then he shook his head. It would be a great honor, but he knew it wasn't the path for him. Now that Tigerclaw was gone, apart from Bluestar, he was the oldest active warrior in ThunderClan. He was becoming too old to serve as Clan deputy, let alone take over as leader if the unthinkable happened. The Clan needed a young, strong warrior to help lead it, not a cat who was only a few moons short of joining the elders' den.

"I'm sorry, Bluestar," he meowed apologetically. "I'm beyond honored that you considered me for the position, but I'm getting too old. A younger cat would make a better decision."

Bluestar nodded. "I had a feeling you might say that," she admitted. She stretched out her paws in front of her. "But who do you think I should choose?"

"Who do _you _believe is the right choice?" Whitestorm questioned. "The decision is yours in the end, Bluestar."

The blue-gray queen shook her head. "There's only one cat I want to have as my deputy," she meowed softly. "But I don't think I can choose him. He's a great warrior, but he's still young and inexperienced, not to mention he already has his paws full with Cinderpaw. And besides...I have a feeling that naming him my deputy would only make things between us worse."

"Do you believe that Fireheart would make a good leader, though?" Whitestorm asked. "And I'm asking you as the leader of ThunderClan, not as his mother."

"I do," Bluestar meowed firmly. "He's always been one of the hardest workers in the Clan, and he was the one who advocated for Cinderpaw to continue training as a warrior even after she was crippled. If he became Clan leader, I have full faith that he would perform his duties admirably."

"Then that's all you need to know," Whitestorm meowed simply. "If you believe Fireheart has the qualities of a leader, then there's no reason you can't choose him as your deputy. Maybe he will be upset over it, but he won't refuse your wishes. He's still a loyal warrior even if he is being a bit...unreasonable."

"Watch it," Bluestar meowed, her eyes narrowed. "That's my son you're talking about."

"I'm sorry," the great white warrior apologized, dipping his head submissively. "I only meant that regardless of Fireheart's feelings towards you, if you believe he's the right choice, there's nothing stopping you from picking him."

Bluestar nodded. "Thank you, Whitestorm," she meowed softly. "It's settled, then. I'll make the announcement to the Clan shortly."

* * *

Fireheart curled up next to Sandstorm as the two of them shared a vole, glancing up at the sky. The sun was beginning to set, which gave Bluestar only a few hours to appoint the new deputy. He wondered who her choice would be. As he took a bite out of the vole, he glanced around the clearing, trying to decide who the most likely candidate would be.

Whitestorm was an obvious choice. The white warrior had always been one of Bluestar's closest confidants, and he had an air of wisdom about him that even Tigerclaw had respected. Frostfur seemed like a good pick as well. She wasn't as wise as Whitestorm, but she was a strong fighter, and more importantly, she knew the love of a mother for her kits and how fiercely they would fight to protect them. If she were able to translate that into protecting the Clan, she would make a formidable deputy and possible leader. Even Ravenflight sounded like a good replacement. He was young, true, but there was a certain maturity he possessed that made him seem older than he really was.

Fireheart shook his head to himself. There were so many qualified warriors to choose from, he didn't know how Bluestar was going to make a decision by moonhigh. He glanced over at Sandstorm, who was watching Squirrelkit and Spotkit play-fight, a fond expression in her pale green eyes. She would have made a fine deputy as well, but unfortunately, being in the nursery meant she probably wouldn't be considered for the position. It seemed foolish to him; after all, there was no reason why a queen wouldn't be capable of caring for her kits and Clan deputy duties at the same time.

"Mama, did you see me? I beat Spotkit!" Squirrelkit cheered, bounding over towards her parents.

"That's not fair! You always win!" Spotkit pouted. "When are you going to let _me _win for a change?"

"Never!" Squirrelkit yowled defiantly, pouncing on top of her brother again.

Fireheart purred in amusement as his children resumed their play-fight. As Squirrelkit and Spotkit rolled around, he spotted Rainkit watching them from a few tail-lengths away. He waved his tail, motioning for his youngest daughter to sit beside him, which she did so happily. The small blue-gray molly settled herself between her parents, earning herself a purr and a gentle lick to her ears from Sandstorm. Rainkit had always been the quietest of his and Sandstorm's litter, and Fireheart wondered what sort of warrior she would make. Not that he was worried, of course. No matter what, he knew that all of his kits would serve their Clan faithfully and with their full potential.

_I wonder if Bluestar felt that way about me, _he thought sadly.

As if thinking about her was somehow a means of summoning, at that moment, Bluestar emerged from her den and leaped onto the Highrock.

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting," she yowled.

Fireheart and Sandstorm got up and walked towards the base of the Highrock. Squirrelkit tried to follow them, only for her mother to usher her back towards the nursery.

"But why can't I come with you?" the fluffy ginger kit whined.

"The meeting is only for cats who are old enough to catch their own prey. You're still a kit," Sandstorm reminded her.

"I can too catch my own prey! I caught Brindleface's tail the other day," Squirrelkit huffed, pouting.

"A cat's tail is not prey, Squirrelkit. And you still haven't apologized to Brindleface for that," Sandstorm meowed sternly, her tone inviting no argument. Her tone softened as she continued, "Go back to the nursery. I promise I'll tell you everything that happened when I come back, okay?"

Squirrelkit looked disappointed, but she was smart enough to realize that arguing was a lost cause. "Okay," she agreed, turning and padding back to the nursery with her head and tail down.

Spotkit bounded up to her. "Don't worry, Squirrelkit," he comforted his sister. "Maybe we can ask Willowpelt and Goldenflower to tell us the story about how TigerClan got their stripes again."

Fireheart watched his children go before continuing on his way to the Highrock, settling himself down beside Sandstorm and Ravenflight. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Whitestorm watching him from the edge of the clearing. There was an odd, almost challenging expression in the older warrior's eyes, and Fireheart felt a wave of confusion wash over him. What had happened that was making Whitestorm look at him in that way?

"Cats of ThunderClan," Bluestar began. "The time has come, once again, to appoint a new deputy."

Murmurs of curiosity and excitement rose from the Clan. However, Whitestorm was not among them, and Fireheart wondered if Bluestar had already told him who the new deputy would be. If she had chosen him, it would make sense that she had.

"I say these words before StarClan, so that the spirits of our warrior ancestors may hear and approve my choice. The new deputy of ThunderClan will be Fireheart," Bluestar continued, her voice ringing out loud and clear.

_Wait, what? _

The Clan was silent, everyone staring at each other in shock. Once again, Whitestorm was the only exception, which confirmed Fireheart's suspicions that he had been informed of Bluestar's choice before the meeting. The newly named deputy took in the reactions of his Clanmates. Several of them looked pleased, and Sandstorm and Cinderpaw looked overjoyed. But others, including Longtail, had expressions of shock and disdain on their faces.

"Fireheart? Aren't you going to say something?" Mousefur asked. She looked surprised by Bluestar's decision, but there was a certain understanding there as well.

"I..." Fireheart let his voice trail away, shaking his head. "I don't even know what to–I mean–me? Bluestar, are you sure? I'm barely a warrior and I haven't even finished training my first apprentice yet."

"Bluestar, do you think you can just do whatever you want?" Longtail snapped. "The Clan needs strong warriors to defend it, not kittypets."

"Oh yeah? And who would that be? _You?_" Cinderpaw sneered. Fireheart felt a spark of warmth for his apprentice.

"I'm more of a warrior than that puny kittypet will ever be," Longtail meowed arrogantly.

"Sure, says the warrior whose apprentice still battles like a two-moon-old kit," the gray molly snapped back. A few tail-lengths away, Swiftpaw flinched visibly, his eyes filled with hurt, and Fireheart knew that he had to interfere before things got out of hand.

"That's enough, Cinderpaw," he rebuked her gently. "I appreciate your support, but do not insult Swiftpaw. He's doing his best, and he's improving. You have things you still need to work on yourself, don't forget. Besides, Swiftpaw is hardly the first apprentice to have issues with his training, and he certainly won't be the last."

Cinderpaw ducked her head apologetically. "I understand," she meowed contritely. "I'm sorry, Swiftpaw."

"It's okay, Cinderpaw," Swiftpaw replied quietly.

"You see, Longtail?" Goldenflower spoke up. "Fireheart may be a young warrior, but he handled Cinderpaw's behavior perfectly. Doesn't that show that he's capable of handling the responsibilities of a Clan deputy?"

"I–well, I suppose–but a kittypet–be that as it may–" Longtail spluttered his tail twitching. Fireheart guessed that while he saw Goldenflower's point, his pride and dislike of the flame-pelted warrior wouldn't allow him to acknowledge it.

"Enough," Bluestar interrupted. "Fireheart, I know this is a shock to you, but I have full confidence that you will serve ThunderClan well as its deputy. You need only say the word."

For a few moments, Fireheart remained silent. His eyes roamed the clearing once more, taking in the expressions of his Clanmates as they waited for him to give his acceptance. But he wasn't sure that he could. He still didn't understand why Bluestar would choose _him _as Clan deputy out of everyone she could have possibly picked from. Was this all some sort of ploy to try to gain his forgiveness?

_No, she wouldn't do that, _he decided. Despite his anger towards her, he couldn't deny that Bluestar would never be foolish enough to think that making him her deputy would suddenly make everything okay between them.

_But if that's not the reason, then why? _

There were so many other cats she could have chosen from. As a matter of fact, almost every cat in ThunderClan would make a more suitable deputy. Yet for some reason, Bluestar had deemed him the best possible candidate. Fireheart wondered if someone had slipped a bit of catmint into her herbs as a prank.

_Did she only do this because I'm her son? _

"Fireheart?" Bluestar prompted.

Well, what choice did he have? The ceremony had already been completed. Closing his eyes, Fireheart took a deep breath, then opened them again and lifted his head so that he was looking at his mother and former mentor in the eyes.

"I accept," he meowed quietly.

Fireheart barely heard a word as his Clanmates began cheering his name. Instead, his gaze was fixed on Bluestar as the ThunderClan leader leaped down from the Highrock and padded off in the direction of her den, unseen by the rest of her Clanmates. Now that the naming ceremony was over, she suddenly looked tired and frail, and the familiar sadness had returned to her eyes. Despite himself, unbridled guilt and pain washed over him. He forced himself to avert his eyes, even managing to put on a cheerful front as Sandstorm licked his cheek affectionately, pride and love shining in her eyes.

The worst part about Bluestar's lie wasn't even the fact that she _had _lied to him. It was that despite everything she had done, he still didn't hate her. He tried to tell himself that he hated her, spent every waking moment reminding himself that she was a lying, selfish, traitor of a mother, but he could never completely make himself believe it. No matter what he did, some foolish part of him still longed for her to be his mother again.


	19. Two Sides

Snowfur watched sadly as Bluestar curled up in her nest, her eyes dull with grief as Fireheart once again refused to speak to her. Beside her, Moonflower and Mosskit watched the ThunderClan leader, their eyes reflecting the pity Snowfur felt. Slowly but surely, Bluestar was beginning to lose hope. With Tigerclaw out loose in the forest, ThunderClan needed its leadership to be united, but that couldn't happen until they worked through their issues–something the deputy didn't seem interested in doing.

How long would it be until Fireheart learned to forgive his mother?

"Poor Bluestar," Snowfur murmured quietly.

"She'll be okay, Snowfur," Moonflower meowed gently, but her gaze was filled with sadness.

The white queen nodded but didn't feel reassured. Bluestar had already been forced to endure so much, and now her son didn't want anything to do with her. Well, he did, but he was too stubborn and proud to do anything about it. She was a strong cat, Snowfur knew, but how much more would she be able to handle? Everyone had a breaking point.

Part of her wanted to be angry with Fireheart for hurting her sister, but she knew it wasn't entirely his fault. He didn't know about the Dark Forest or anything about the history between Bluestar and Thistleclaw; he had no reason to believe that Snowfur's former mate had lied to him. No, the only cat to blame in this situation was Thistleclaw. Snowfur couldn't believe that even he would stoop so low. She had known for a long time that Thistleclaw hated Bluestar, but she had never imagined that, even after all these moons, he still hadn't let go of his grudge.

"Why can't we just tell Fireheart the truth?" Mosskit piped up. "He would listen to us, wouldn't he? We can just visit him in a dream and tell him that Thistleclaw lied to him, and everything would be fine."

"Fireheart needs to work through his feelings on his own, dear. It's not our place to interfere," Moonflower reminded the young kit gently.

"But what if he never forgives Bluestar?" Mosskit asked, looking worried and sad. Snowfur felt a pang of sorrow. Ever since Fireheart had been born, Mosskit had been eagerly looking forward to meeting him and bonding over being half-siblings. The thought that he would forever reject Bluestar as his mother, and therefore her as well, broke the little molly's heart.

"He will," Moonflower reassured her. "Bluestar loves Fireheart very much and she's always done everything she could to make sure he was safe and happy. Sooner or later, he'll realize that himself."

Snowfur hoped that her mother was right. If Bluestar lost her son's affection for good on top of being forced to give up her first litter, she didn't want to think about what the consequences would be.

"How could Thistleclaw do this?" she hissed, unable to stop herself. "Wasn't it enough that he separated Fireheart from her once? What's in it for him to continue his stupid vendetta against her? Why can't he just let it go already?"

"We may never know, dear," Moonflower meowed soothingly. "There are some answers that even we can't figure out. But rest assured that no matter what happens, everything will turn out just fine in the end. It might take a few days, or it might take several moons, but things will work out between Fireheart and Bluestar. We need only to have patience."

Snowfur nodded almost absentmindedly, turning her attention back towards the pool. As much as she wanted to believe that Moonflower was right, seeing how upset Fireheart was with Bluestar made it difficult to have much faith. He was so angry, so hurt. At this point, it looked as though it would take a miracle for him to be willing to speak to her about Clan matters, let alone bond with her as his mother.

As she watched, the image in the pool changed to that of Fireheart and Sandstorm's kits playing happily while their parents looked on. There was an expression of pure love in Fireheart's eyes as he watched his children, and he even allowed Spotkit to bat at his ears with tiny paws. Squirrelkit squealed with joy and pounced on her father, immediately rolling off his back and on top of a ball of moss. Redkit and Rainkit, the less rambunctious of Fireheart and Sandstorm's litter, settled themselves at their mother's paws while they watched their siblings attack their father.

Seeing how much Fireheart adored his family, Snowfur couldn't help wondering why it was so difficult for him to forgive Bluestar. He knew that Bluestar cared about him and he knew what it was to love as a father, so why couldn't he see that she would never abandon him as he believed she had? Anyone with eyes could see that Thistleclaw had been lying.

On the other hand, she had known everything Thistleclaw had done from the start, so she wouldn't have believed it anyway. Fireheart, however, was completely ignorant. Besides, Snowfur admitted begrudgingly, perhaps she shouldn't be so quick to judge Fireheart for falling for her former mate's lies. After all, she had once thought that Thistleclaw hung the stars and sent the rain that made the flowers bloom in newleaf.

Moonflower touched the tip of her tail to her daughter's shoulder. "Let's go," she meowed softly. "We'll only make ourselves worry more if we stay at this pool any longer. Thrushpelt is waiting for us; we can go hunting with him."

Snowfur nodded silently, allowing her mother to lead her away from the viewing pool. At the last second, however, she turned around and glanced back in its direction one more time. But she was too far away to see into its depths now, and the pool was nothing more than a shimmering puddle of water that refused to dry up even though the air was as warm as the sun itself.

* * *

While Snowfur and her family were mourning over Bluestar's pain in StarClan, in the depths of the Dark Forest, another cat was experiencing a vastly different set of emotions.

Thistleclaw was overjoyed at the way things had turned out. At long last, he had gotten what he wanted. Well, that wasn't entirely accurate–he still hadn't achieved his dream of becoming a Clan leader, nor would he ever be able to do so now. But he had succeeded in his other mission; he had torn Fireheart and Bluestar apart for good. Now, Bluestar would be forced to endure life as ThunderClan leader without a family, which was less than she deserved.

_Thank the Dark Forest that Fireheart is a stupid, gullible fool, _the spiky-furred warrior thought with a sneer. It had been only too easy to convince Fireheart that Bluestar had abandoned him. Not that Thistleclaw was about to complain, of course. Fireheart's utter lack of common sense, or a functioning brain for that matter, made his job a lot easier.

Bluestar may have beaten him in earning the rank of Clan leader, but she had lost her entire family, and Thistleclaw knew that it would break her sooner or later. Finally, the face she had put on for her Clanmates would crumble, and they would see her for the weakling she really was. They would realize that Sunstar had made a mistake all those seasons ago and abandon her, just as she deserved. And when she died, Thistleclaw would be waiting for her–to kill her a tenth time as a final form of repayment for everything she had done to him.

_Well, assuming she goes to the Dark Forest, _the one remaining logical part of his mind reasoned. He brushed it off immediately, however. _Of course. It's the only place she _could _go. She out of all cats deserves this place more than anyone. _

That was all a long way in the future, though. For now, Thistleclaw was content to live his afterlife in the Dark Forest, training with the other disgraced warriors, with the full knowledge that everything had gone according to plan.

* * *

**And that's a wrap for arc three! I've got a chapter in the works for the beginning of _Echoing Flames: Rising Storm_, so expect that to come out soon. **

**Thanks for reading! **

**-TheShadowedWarrior**


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